


A Winterfell Direwolf in King Bolton's Court

by MalcolmXavier



Series: Little Girl Lost [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bloodhounds, Crapsack Universe, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, House Bolton is its own warning, Multiple Storylines, No Smut, Not A Fix-It, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tagging characters as they show up, unreliable narrators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-01-20 00:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 117,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12421422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalcolmXavier/pseuds/MalcolmXavier
Summary: This is an alt-verse of another fic I did called The Lone Wolf.  If you have not read The Lone Wolf yet, I highly recommend that you do so before continuing because otherwise this fic obviously won't make a ton of sense.  It basically looks at what would've happened if Roose's post-RW plan from that verse had been successful and the Others had no means of bringing down the Wall.





	1. Prologue (Arya)

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read this far, I'm going to assume you've already read The Lone Wolf and know what I mean when I say a VERY bad thing almost happened in chapter 32 at the end of a horrible wedding. This fic essentially keeps all but three events which occurred prior to chapter 33 of The Lone Wolf intact (the three divergences are that the Night's King is unable to communicate via zombie ravens, the aforementioned bad thing actually happens, and Roose brings Qyburn back to The Dreadfort with him). However, anything else is fair game to be changed.
> 
> Aside from the epilogue and prologue, the fic will jump back and forth (one section of chapters at a time) between two parallel storylines which occurred about eight years apart (not unlike the literary structure of IT). Honestly, it's hard to say more than that without spoiling things, so I'll just say that if you liked The Lone Wolf, you'll probably like this a lot. If you didn't like The Lone Wolf or thought it was too dark, you'll probably feel the same way about this story. 
> 
> I own nothing and give all the credit in the world to George R.R. Martin. I hope you enjoy this story and as always, I live for feedback whether it be positive or constructive criticism, so please let me know what you think!

**PROLOGUE** (Winterfell):

 

**The following takes place nine months after Arya and Domeric’s wedding (301 A.C.):**

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”  A strange thing happened as Arya took her first long, hard look at her newborn son as she lay in the stupid bed where she’d just spent some of the most painful hours of her life.  The Lone Wolf had expected to hate the child after what his father had done to her, but she didn’t.  In truth, she found that she loved the baby more than anything else in the world the moment that she looked into its pale, blue eyes. 

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” 

 

Arya hated Domeric more than she ever would’ve believed possible, but not their son.  He wasn’t even their son…not really.  The child belonged to her and no one else.  Nothing could ever change that…not even what Domeric had done to her.  Arya smiled lovingly at her son as Maester Tybald finished inspecting the child.  The old man hobbled out of the room, but didn’t have the decency to shut the door quietly and the baby was not amused judging by the way he began flailing about in his mother’s arms. 

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” 

 

“Shhhhhh.  It’s okay, there’s nothing to worry about, I promise.  Shhhhhh.  I don’t care what anyone else says, you’re going to be a Stark just like me.  You’re nothing like those stupid old Boltons; they’ll see!  Shhhhh.  There’s nothing to be afraid of, Maester Tybald was just…being an idiot is all.  It’s okay, I promise!  I’m right here.  No one will ever hurt you while I’m around.  Shhhhhhh.  You’re going to be the King of the entire North someday.  Isn’t that exciting?  You’ll make The North a safe place to live again; I know you will!  It just…won’t be for a few years is all.  There won’t be any stupid Boltons around then either!  Shhhhhhhh.  It’s okay.  You’ll be alright,” whispered Arya as she held her son in her arms. 

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAH!”   _Am I doing this wrong?  Should I keep talking to him or will he just fall asleep on his own?  Did mother talk to me when I was born?  She’d know what to do.  I wish I could remember more from when I was little…_

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” 

 

“Is that what you want me to call you?  ‘Waaah?’”  

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”   _At least it wasn’t as loud that time, maybe he’s finally calming down…_ In truth, the baby’s screams had already begun to test the limits of Arya’s patience – especially once it became plain that her son had no intention of letting her get so much as a single minute of sleep – and yet somehow she couldn’t bring herself to be anything more than mildly annoyed with the crying child.  Now matter how irritating his senseless shrieks were, Arya knew that it was only a matter of time before Maester Tybald sent some stupid wetnurse to take away her son…at least until she was strong enough to get out of bed.  After that, Arya had no intention of letting a wetnurse or anyone else take her son away ever again for even a single second longer than it took to feed him.  _It’s not fair!  Maester Tybald doesn’t even have any stupid children of his own, so why should he get to decide how much time I get to spend with my son today just because I hurt my stupid body giving birth?  Stupid Maester.  I hate him!  Him and his stupid chain!  At least Domeric didn’t send Qyburn…_

 

“You don’t have to cry this much.  Nothing bad has even happened to you yet…not really.  If you’re quiet now, you can scream as much as you want when that stupid wetnurse takes you away from me for the rest of the day.  Deal?”  The baby tilted its head ever so slightly…almost as though it had some vague sense of what its mother had said and was weighing its options.  Arya knew that her son couldn’t understand her, but that didn’t matter…not really.  

 

The baby then did something that made the Lone Wolf feel – if only for a few seconds – as though the holes in her heart had somehow all been filled: it looked its mother directly in the eye and smiled at her.  It was in that moment that Arya knew that as horrible and painful as the events surrounding her son’s conception had been, she could not – would not – allow herself to love her son any less because of what his father had done to her.   _It’s not your fault that Domeric is the worst shit in The Seven Kingdoms…not really.  You’re just…an innocent little boy, the same as any other.  It’s not your fault that your father’s a raper either.  You won’t be anything like that monster.  I won’t let him change you!  NEVER!_   The baby giggled and began grasping at the air aimlessly with one of its tiny hands.

 

“I love you more than anything else in the world,” the Lone Wolf gently whispered.  “You’ll be safe; nothing will ever harm you while I'm around.  I promise not to let anyone hurt you and if Ramsay or any other stupid Bolton ever tries to then I…I’ll kill them!  You’re going to grow up to be a good King…like father and Robb would’ve been.  And you won’t be one of those stupid Lords who tries to force his daughter to be some boring old lady either.”  Arya bit her lip.   _He’ll be safer if I start calling myself a Bolton instead of a Stark, most like.  If I do that then maybe Lord Bolton won’t think he has to hurt my son in order to make him a Bolton…maybe.  And neither of us would be Boltons if I did that…not really.  It's just a name.  But I…I don’t want…  Will Bran and Rickon hate me if…  I…I mean…I can’t…not after…after what Domeric…_

 

_NO!  I…I have to call myself a Bolton from now on!  It could be the only way to keep Lord Bolton from trying to turn my son into some sort of stupid leech like Domeric or Ramsay.  And it doesn’t even change anything besides…not really.  I am a direwolf.  I will always be a Stark of Winterfell…no matter what I call myself around Lord Bolton and his stupid sons.  Stupid Boltons.  My son will be a Stark too; I know he will!  I...I can't kill Domeric either_ , Arya realized. _If I did then Lord Bolton would have me executed and then there would be no one left to make sure my son grows up to be a good person._

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” 

 

“You’re not going to stop doing that, are you?” 

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” 

 

“I’m going to call you –”  Suddenly, the door swung open and Domeric Bolton – a bald, blue-eyed monster whom Arya had quickly come to hate more than anyone else in Westeros – entered the room. 

 

“Get out…now,” hissed the Lone Wolf. 

 

“You will speak to me with respect.” 

 

“I said…GET OUT, YOU STUPID –” 

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” 

 

“You upset Jon!  Shhhhh.  It’s okay.  Shhhhhh.” 

 

“You’re the one who yelled in that creature’s presence, I think.  And its name will be ‘Robar.’” 

 

“You don’t get to decide his name; he was only even born because you raped –” 

 

“I was merely claiming my rights as your Lord husband.  I assure you that I suffered far more than you did.  At least you were unconscious for it; I was the true victim of that ordeal, I think.” 

 

“GO AWAY!  I hate you and –”  

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”  

 

“Seven Hells,” sighed Arya. 

 

“It matters not at all how you feel.  One way or another, that child will be named ‘Robar.’  It is a fitting name considering that it seems determined to rob me of my sleep.  I’d have permitted you to name our daughter were we unfortunate enough to have one; that’s more than generous considering that a man need not ask his property’s permission what to name any of his children, regardless of their sex.” 

 

“I am not not your stupid –” 

 

“Yes, yes, yes, you’re not my property and it’s still rape if a man takes his wife against her will,” sighed Domeric, rolling his eyes.  “Mayhaps you have not grown tired of repeating such foolishness over and over again, but I can assure you that I am more than tired of hearing it.”  

“I don’t care if you –” 

 

“Next you’ll be telling me that I can’t punish my property by sending my son to spend his early years being raised in Barrowtown or somewhere else far away where his mother won’t be able to see him.”  Arya looked down at her son and saw that the baby had somehow fallen asleep in her arms.   _He can’t!  That…that’s not fair!_

 

“No, I…I’ll stop saying that!  Just don’t send him away and…please, I…I need –” 

 

“What is our son’s name?” 

 

"Burn in Hell!"  

 

"Mayhaps I should send him to The Twins so that he can be a ward of House Frey.  What do you –"

 

“NO!  My son...I mean...our son's name is Robar.  Robar Bolton of Winterfell.  Don't send him to The Twins!  Please, you can't –”   _I hate you!  I hate you!  I hate you!  I HATE YOU!  I hope your father's stupid bastard kills you in your sleep!_

 

“That’s better.  Are you sorry for arguing with me about what the boy’s name should be?” 

 

“Yes, my Lord,” Arya mumbled. 

 

“Since you’ve plainly seen the error of your ways and sought to make amends, I give you my word that I will not send the child away.  I swear it by The Old Gods and The New.  You see how much more pleasant life can be when you remember your place?”   

 

“I hope Lord Snow feeds you to his stupid dogs!” 

 

“What was that?” 

 

“You already gave me your word that you wouldn’t send Robar away no matter what I did, idiot.  I know you.  You’re a monster, but you’re not the same kind of monster as your father and his stupid bastard.  You don’t lie once you’ve given your word about something.  That means I can stop pretending to be sorry for arguing with you about MY son's name.” 

 

“As always, I fear no good deed goes unpunished.  I suppose I should’ve expected this given how inconsiderate you’ve been of late.  After all, you kept screaming while you were bringing that wretched thing into the world and now it won’t be silent.  I could hear both of you through the stone walls.  Once again, you failed to consider anyone’s needs except your own.  If you were screaming like a madwoman and there was no one else in the castle, that would be one thing.  As that was not the case, it was quite rude of you to scream while giving birth to that abomination.  How was I supposed to get any sleep?  In a perfect world, it would have died while you were still with child, but now I fear I must needs suffer Robar's senseless shrieking until he learns to talk.  In truth, if father died before you’d spawned that screeching pink rodent, I would’ve forced you to drink moon tea.  A man can dream…”  

 

“SHUT UP, YOU STUPID –” 

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!  WAAAAAAAH!  WAAAAAAAAAH!   WAAAAAAAAAAAH!” 

 

“I see you’ve woken it.  I always knew you’d be a terrible mother.”  In that moment, Arya found herself too angry to speak or even form so much as a single coherent thought and it was only for her son's sake that she didn't hurl herself off the bed and try to attack the King of The North. 

 

“WAAAAAAAAH!” 

 

“This will not serve.  That creature is plainly a half-wit; father says a man shouldn’t cry and –” 

 

“Seven Hells!  He’s just a baby!” 

 

“And?” 

 

“Babies cry, stupid!”  

“WAAAAAAAH!”  

“Fix him.” 

 

“What?” 

  
"The child is screaming because he's broken, most like.  Fix him."  

 

"You can't be serious."  

 

“Make Robar stop doing crying!” 

 

“How?” 

 

“I don’t know; you’re its mother.  Aren’t women supposed to know these things?”  

“Shut up,” growled the Lone Wolf, rolling her eyes in disgust.  

“It matters not at all that you’ve already proven yourself woefully ill-equipped to care for a child, so long as –”  

“I said…‘SHUT UP!’” 

 

“I’ll find the little brat’s wet nurse.  Robar can’t very well keep crying if he’s busy sucking some fool’s breast, can he?”   _What?  But…NO!_

 

“Wait…don’t…don’t take him away just yet.  I’ll make him stop crying; you’ll see!  I…I’m not ready and I…  Just five more minutes and…Domeric?  Please, I –”  

 

“You had your chance,” growled the King in The North, slamming the door on his way out. 

 

“WAAAAAAAAH!  WAAAAAAH!  WAAAAAAAAAAAAH!  WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” 

 

…

 

**The following takes place one year later to the day (302 A.C.):**

 

“WAAAAAAAAAH,” shrieked Randyll.  

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH,” wailed Royce.  For a moment, Nymeria tilted her head as if trying to decide whether to join her older brothers.  The Lone Wolf watched her three youngest children roll about in their wooden cribs and bit her lip.  For some reason, everything suddenly felt…empty without any of her children in her arms.  

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH,” screamed Nymeria.  Arya smiled at her daughter from the other side of the room.  For some reason the Lone Wolf couldn’t help taking comfort in the way Nymeria always stubbornly insisted upon crying even louder than her older brothers…almost as if it were a matter of principle.  Suddenly, a sharp burst of pain raced through the Lone Wolf’s body and she bit her lip to keep from screaming.  It wasn’t the pain that bothered her…not really.  In truth, Maester Tybald had said that it was unheard of for a 14 year-old to survive giving birth to triplets less than a year after giving birth to her first child…a fact in which the Lone Wolf took a strange sort of pride.  However, it also meant that – until her body recovered – she’d be stuck in this stupid bed. 

 

In truth, the Lone Wolf was still too weak to even make her way across the room to the three cribs, much less actually keep all four of her children safe.  It hadn’t taken Arya long to discover that there was no worse feeling than to be a mother unable to protect one of her children.  It took Ramsay just a few months to teach her that lesson…   _My mother always loved me…even at Winterfell.  She would’ve loved me no matter what and I…I didn’t believe her.  Robb and her are dead and it’s all my fault.  I couldn’t save Bran and Rickon either.  Even if there was a way for them escape, I still couldn’t help them…not really, else Domeric might punish me by letting Ramsay hurt one of my children.  Lord Bolton said he needed two grandsons, not three…and none of the Boltons would care if Nymeria died besides._

 

_I’ll still protect Bran and Rickon whenever I can though; I really will!  They’ll see!  I just…can’t do anything that might make the Boltons hurt any of my children is all.  Maybe Rickon will figure out a way to escape on his own when he’s older…maybe.  What if…what if Rickon’s right and I am betraying House Stark, does that mean…_ Arya bit her lip. 

 

_I…I don’t deserve to be a Stark…not really.  NO!  Mother, she…she wouldn’t want me to think that way.  I can still make her proud of me; I just…have to be a good mother is all.  Robar, Randyll, Royce, and Nymeria all need me to protect them and make sure that they don’t end up like the rest of the Boltons.  Mother will be proud of me once she see the kind of people my children have grown up to be, I know she will!_

 

_What Domeric did, it…it wasn’t their fault and it never will be!  Domeric didn’t have to knock me unconscious and rape me on our wedding night; he could’ve just lied to his father and pretended to have done it.  He didn’t have to force me to drink a whole cup of milk-of-the-poppy and then do it a second time just because his father wanted a second grandson either.  Who cares if Lord Bolton ordered him to keep doing it until I gave him at least two healthy sons?  That stupid leech had a choice and everything that happened, it…it’s all his fault!  I can’t kill him though…not really.  Lord Bolton said that if Domeric dies before Robar comes of age then he’ll still make me marry his bastard.  Ramsay would murder all four of my children if that happened, most like.  I…I don’t care how much he pretends to like Robar; he can’t fool me!  Stupid bastard!_ Suddenly, the door swung open and Arya found herself face-to-face with the last person she’d have ever expected to come visit her.  

 

“Rickon?”  

 

“Hello, Arya.”  

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAH,” cried Randyll.  

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH,” screamed Nymeria.  

 

“Your children never stop doing that, do they?”  

 

“No,” Arya sighed, looking down at the stone floor in shame.  “Rickon, I’m sorry about what Lord Bolton did to you; I really I am!  I didn’t know!  I thought I was helping you and –”  

 

“I know; it…it’s okay.  Actually, it's not and it never will be, but it wasn't your fault.  I'm not angry at you for what happened.  You couldn’t have known that stupid leech would –” 

 

“Lord Bolton is a monster, but he isn’t stupid…not really.  And he wouldn’t like being called that besides.” 

 

“Why do you care?” 

 

“I…I don’t…I mean…I just –”  

 

“Seven Hells!  What is it going to take for you to stop...no, that...that's not why I'm here.  It doesn’t matter.  I came to tell you that I’m not angry at you anymore for begging Lord Bolton not to kill me.  You didn’t know that he’d tell Qyburn to...tell him to...to make it that I couldn’t have children.” 

 

“I…I really am sorry.”  

 

“Me too.  I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you or Bran from the Boltons.  I should’ve killed Domeric before he had a chance to get you with child.  I also should’ve killed that evil old man for what he did to me even if he isn’t a Bolton.  And it’s almost like Bran’s not even our brother…” 

 

“Bran doesn’t know who he is anymore.”  

 

“He hates Robar because he’s jealous of how much attention Ramsay gives him whenever you're not around,” sighed Rickon.  Arya frowned.   _I don’t care how nice that stupid bastard pretends to be to Robar, I know he’s planning to hurt him somehow.  He can’t fool me; I won’t let him!  NEVER!_ “I should’ve killed every single Bolton for what they did to my family.  Sometimes when I get really angry, I like to pretend that I’m feeding all of you to Ramsay’s dogs.  That’s what I’d do if was stronger; I bet father would’ve killed every single Bolton if he were still alive.” 

 

“Even me,” blurted Arya.   _I didn’t ask for any of this!  Do you think I wanted Domeric to rape me twice because he was too craven to stand up to his stupid father?  You don’t know what it’s like to have to make deals with these people just to keep them from hurting you and my children!  You can’t know…  I didn’t mean to get mother and Robb killed; I really didn’t!  I swear!_

 

Rickon looked as though he wanted nothing more than to race across the room and hug his sister, but instead he just silently stared at her.  “Rickon?  You didn’t mean me…did you?”  Arya tried to see the truth on her youngest brother’s face like Syrio had taught her to, but it was no use; the room had grown too watery.  For a moment, the Lone Wolf could’ve sworn she saw her youngest brother shrug his shoulders, but it was impossible to say for sure.  In truth, Arya didn’t want to know if that was what she’d seen…not really. 

 

“Maybe not you, but the rest of them…  I guess you don’t deserve to die.  You’re still my sister and you always will be!  I don’t think you could ever really be a Bolton even if you tried.”  Arya couldn’t help smiling at that, even as she forced herself to fight back bitter tears. 

 

“WAAAAAH,” shrieked Royce. 

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH,” wailed Nymeria, never one to be outdone. 

 

“And you’d never try to hurt any of my children either because it’s not their fault they were born into this stupid House, right?”  

"They're Boltons."  

 

"No more than I am.  Rickon, I need you to promise me that you won't try to hurt any of them."  

“I mean…I…I don’t –”  Suddenly, the doors flew open and Ramsay glided into the room like a bull shark quietly drifting through some muddy river in search of something to eat.  The bastard’s pale, blue eyes studied Rickon for a moment, only to begin scanning the rest of the room as though the youngest Starkling wasn’t worth the time it would take to devour him. 

 

“You, Prickon, or whatever the fuck your name is...out!”  

 

“I don’t have to go if I don’t want to,” snapped Rickon. 

 

“WAAAAAAAAH,” cried Randyll. 

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH,” screamed Nymeria as if in reply. 

 

“Father said that if you gave me a hard time today, then I could cut off your balls.”  

“You can’t!  Domeric promised –” 

 

“Do you think my father cares whether you were able to get that idiot to promise not to kill your shit of a little brother?  Now shut your cunt mouth before I shut it for you!”  Ramsay studied the youngest Starkling with hungry, savage eyes that flickered like the blue flames from the deepest depths of the Seven Hells.  “Hmm…you’re still here.  Remember what I said, snip, snip, snip and then off go your tiny widdle stones!  You’re not going to give me a hard time are you?”  Rickon shook his head and raced out of the room like his life depended on it…and mayhaps it did. 

 

“What do you want,” growled the Lone Wolf. 

 

“Only to see how my favorite widdle sister in the whole world was doing after her big day.”  

“For the last time, I’m not your stupid sister, so you'd better stop calling me that!"  

 

“Good-sister, sister, dumb cunt who won’t stop bitching about one thing or another, it’s all the same to me.” 

 

“Please, just…just leave me alone.”   _‘Please’_ …Arya hated saying that word to the blue-eyed monster towering over Royce’s crib; it made her feel like some stupid, frightened little girl and not a wolf at all.   _Rickon was right; no matter what I call myself, I’ll never be a Bolton…not really.  I just…have to keep pretending to be one in order to keep my children safe is all.  Lord Bolton must think I really am some stupid leech since he gave me Vengeance back a few months after Robar was born.  Stupid Bolton.  I am a direwolf and I will always be a Stark of Winterfell._

 

“‘Please?’  Did you actually say ‘please’ to me?  Awww…now isn’t that pwwecious?  You must really want me out of this room.  What could possibly make you desperate enough to ask me soooooo nicely?  Surely it can’t be that you’re worried I might hurt one of these darling little children of yours.  I suppose it doesn’t really matter, does it?  Unfortunately for you, I'm not that dumb shit who raped you…what?  Once?  Twice?  Three times?  I’ve lost count.  In any case, I don’t plan on leaving until I’m good and ready.”  

“If you lay even one finger on any of them, I’ll –”  

 

“Now there’s the dumb bitch, we all know and love!  It wounds me deeply to see that you hold me in such low regard.  I'm sure that if you look closely, you'll even be able to see the pain in my eyes,” snickered the bastard.  “How could you even think that I’d ever an innocent little child after all I’ve done to help you raise young Robar?” 

 

“I told you to stay away from him, you stupid –” 

 

“It sounds like I simply decided to ignore you, funny thing that.  And Robar doesn’t seem to mind besides,” sneered Ramsay as he drew closer and closer to his good-sister’s bed.  “You can’t keep me away from him when you’re not in the room.  Do you really think any of the wetnurses here would cross me for you?  You have far too many rules about who you will and won't hurt to make anyone here truly afraid of you.  I don’t believe in rules; they make things awfully boring, don’t you think?”  By now the bastard was leaning in so close that Arya could smell his breath.  It stank like a decomposing deer that had started to bloat and reeked of death.  

 

“You’d better leave Robar alone or I’ll –” 

 

“The screaming widdle tike said his first word earlier today.  I was holding him while you were giving birth to these three squirts of cum from my brother’s member – such as it is – and do you know what that pink, squealing barrel full of joy said to me?  Robar called me ‘dada.’”  Arya grabbed  _Vengeance_  from its hiding place beneath her bedsheets and pushed its blade against the bastard’s stupid throat, barely managing to resist the urge to kill him where he stood.  Instead, the Lone Wolf forced herself to settle for nicking him.  Although it was no deeper than the cuts Domeric sometimes gave himself when he was shaving – oft followed by some tirade about how unfair it was that he could grow hair on his face, but not his head – tiny drops of blood quickly began dripping from the cut as though Ramsay’s body were shedding toxic tears made of red rain that had mixed with some sort of black bile. 

 

“That was your last warning; if you try to move even once before I give you permission, I’ll cut your throat.  I know you are just pretending to be nice to Robar so you can use him to hurt me until you can figure out a way to kill him…even if I can’t prove it.”  

 

“Are you sure?  And just what is it you even think I’m going to do?  Please, do be specific as I’m just dying to know.  Is it really so hard to believe that even if I had my own reasons for being kind to little Robar at first, I’ve since taken a liking to my eldest nephew?” 

 

“If you don’t stay away from my children, I’ll kill you and feed you to your own hounds.  Do you understand,” asked Arya in a flat, emotionless voice.  

“Yes, I understand,” growled the bastard although he didn’t stop looking the Lone Wolf directly in the eye for even half a second.  That was bad, but there was nothing Arya could do about it; Lord Snow was never going to be afraid of her…not really.  

“Good.  Now get out!”  Ramsay slowly backed away…only for his stupid wormy lips to twist into an evil smile the moment he was out of range.   _That was stupid.  I shouldn’t have held a knife to his throat unless I was actually going to kill him.  There’s no one around to help if Ramsay tries to hurt me._ _I bet he even told those stupid wetnurses not to come in until after he left the room._

 

“It must be awful for you, laying in bed all day like a helpless little girl while you wait for two wetnurses to come and take your children away from you until some old man decides that you’re healthy enough to leave this room.” 

 

“There are three wetnurses coming, stupid.” 

 

“Oh that’s right, I forgot to tell you, didn’t I?  How terribly foolish of me, I seem to have forgotten to mention why I came here in the first place.  Much as I enjoy listening to you bitch about things I don’t give a fuck about while those three hairless rodents scream like a flayed man, I’m afraid this isn’t a purely social visit.  You see, your beloved lord husband once told me that you tricked him into not sending sweet widdle Robar away by making him think you were sorry for arguing with him.  Domeric got awful mad at you about that when I reminded him of that today and he said that I could choose one of your children to be fostered at Barrowtown – all the way on the other side of The North – for the first six years of its life.  After all, rudeness can’t very well go unpunished, can it?”  

“WHAT!  NO!  PLEASE, I’M SORRY!  I…I mean…you can’t –”  All three children began crying in unison at the sound of their mother’s frightened, frantic voice and for a moment Ramsay looked as though he was considering jumping out the window in order to escape the storm of screams. 

 

“Actually, I think I can, but let’s find out!  Apparently Domeric is determined to keep some stupid promise he made not to send Robar away.  Hmm…now which one of these three do you love the most?  I’m sure every parent has favorites; my father certainly does,” growled the bastard. 

 

“I’m sorry!  Just leave them alone and –” 

 

“Could it be you,” asked Ramsay, slowly approaching Randyll’s crib. 

 

“So you’re just going to do whatever Domeric says like some stupid dog?  I bet that’s why Lord Bolton hates you so much: You’re too stupid to think for yourself!”  

 

“No, definitely not him.  Did you really think that would work?  Unlike you and Domeric, I don’t care what my father thinks of me.”  

“HEY!  I do not care what Lord Bolt–” 

 

“And what about you, little Lord?  Might you be your sweet mother’s favorite bawling brat?  After all, you’re the only one who has her eyes.”  Royce stopped crying just long enough to burp at his half-uncle as the blue- eyed monster began to reach for his youngest nephew. 

 

“I should’ve cut your stupid throat when –” 

 

“Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve…” 

 

“Shut up!  You’d better not try to hurt Royce and if you tell Domeric to send…GET AWAY FROM HIM OR I’LL –” 

 

“Waaaarrrrrmmmmmer!  I don’t think we’re quite there yet though,” replied Ramsay, letting go of his youngest nephew’s left leg. 

 

“GO AWAY!  I hate you!  You and your stupid dogs!” 

 

“Hmm…apparently I have a niece too.  And how does mommy feel about her special widdle girl?  No one would miss you too much if you went missing, would they?  Who’s going to die because poor widdle Arya wasn’t strong enough to save her?  Could it be you,” sneered the bastard, reaching for his flaying knife. 

 

“GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU BASTARD!  YOU'D BETTER LEAVE NYMERIA ALONE RIGHT NOW!  IF YOU LAY EVEN ONE HAND ON HER, I’LL FEED YOU TO YOUR STUPID DOGS!  LEAVE HER ALONE!  YOU'D BETTER LET GO OF MY DAUGHTER'S ARM, RIGHT NOW!  I...I'LL KILL YOU,” screamed Arya, nearly falling out of bed as she struggled to force herself to get up.  It was no use and pain shot through the Lone Wolf like an arrow as her own legs betrayed her.  

“I think we have a winner!” 

 

“BURN IN HELL!” 

 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to send your daughter away.  I have a very special surprise planned for my dear niece.  Of course, she’s much too young at the moment.  Luckily for us, I have all the time in the world!  You know what they say; all good things come to those who wait…  And as our runner-up, little Royce gets to go on a six-year vacation to Barrowtown where he won’t be able to see his mother until he comes back to Winterfell.  Of course, he’ll be raised by his great aunt until then.  That woman is such miserable cunt that I almost feel sorry for the poor boy…OH WELL!  I’d love to stay and chat, but I wouldn’t want to be late for today’s hunt!” 

 

“NO!  GIVE HIM BACK!  PLEASE!  Don’t send Royce to Barrowtown!  I was the one who lied, not him!  Please, just…just tell Domeric to punish me instead of Royce and –”  

 

“That’s exactly what he’s going to do…right…about…NOW,” exclaimed the bastard, his voice dripping with cheerful malice as he snatched Royce from his crib.  The blue-eyed monster left the room with his youngest nephew, whistling to himself as the Lone Wolf wept bitter tears for the latest in a seemingly endless line of loved ones whom she’d failed to protect when they needed her most.  


	2. Royce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 314 A.C.

As Royce Bolton gazed down the long, dimly lit path to Qyburn’s study, his worthless body began trembling with fear…just like it always did whenever he had to go anywhere by himself.  Being alone in Winterfell was scary!  In truth, it was just The Winterfell’s library, but no one complained when the most learned man in The North converted it into a laboratory of sorts…in no small part because none of the books had any pages left. _At least old man Roose only rips the pages out of his own books, else I’d have nothing to read…  I don't know why he keeps the empty covers neatly lined up on the bookshelves though._

In truth, it was a great honor to be able to help such a wise, learned man probe the inner-workings of rodent anatomy…not that anyone appreciated the true value of the old man’s work.If it weren’t all so important, Royce never would’ve risked constant beatings by traveling through Winterfell without protection. _Protection._ The word was like a maggot slowly eating its way through the second youngest Bolton’s mind and yet it was the only one that would serve. _What kind of craven begs his younger sister to come with him when he has to use the privy because he's afraid of getting beat up?Nym was only born a few seconds after me, but she’s still younger than me and she’s a girl besides.Even if Nym’s not like everybody else, it’s still embarrassing._ Royce spat at the floor in disgust and tried to pretend that he wasn’t such a useless craven, but it was no use. 

_What if Robar’s right and I really don’t deserve to be a Bolton?I bet I wouldn’t be so scared of everything if I hadn’t been sent to live with that evil old witch from Barrowtown for six years.I don’t care if father is sorry or doesn’t care at all, I will NEVER forgive him for doing that to me.I bet Robar wouldn’t pick on me so much if I’d also lived at Winterfell when I was little.I’d be a good Bolton then!It’s not fair!No one understands what I have to deal with and all because my father was some big, stupid jerk.I wish he was dead!I hate that stupid bald arse…I mean…umm…butthole!_

_And it wasn’t right of Beastly Barbrey to humiliate me just because I was still wetting the bed when I was five and a half years old either.That evil old witch shouldn’t have made me sleep in wet, smelly clothes for the rest of the night and then go around telling every servant in Barrowtown about it the next morning.I didn’t want to keep wetting the bed!  It wasn't on purpose!There had to have been other ways to make me stop.I HATE HER!I wish someone would light her on fire or feed her to Ramsay’s evil bastard dogs.Stupid butt-faced witch!   She didn’t have the right to do that to me and…and…no, I…I have to stay calm.I won’t let Beastly Barbrey into Qyburn’s study.That’s my special place and no one else’s; it doesn’t belong to anyone except me.It’s really my study, all Qyburn ever wants to do is watch and take notes while I work on his little white mice.He even said that if the experiments yielded interesting results then he’d find another type of animal for me to work on, whatever that means...  _

In truth, not even Qyburn understood why his work mattered so much and how could he?The old man may’ve been the smartest person in Westeros, but his work was vital to Royce Bolton’s life for a far more personal reason: it was a safe way to vent.When he was with Qyburn’s little white mice, knife in hand, Royce was a God and you couldn’t beat up a God. _Robar.   Beastly Barbrey.Ramsay Snow.Skinner.Father.None of them matter when I’m working on Qyburn’s little white mice._Royce bit his lip. 

_I wish I could tell mother, but it’d just worry her, most like.She’d be really mad at me for hurting animals and she always hated Qyburn besides.  She was wroth with me when Lady Barbrey told her about the cat, but that was mostly an accident...mostly.I wish I knew why mother hates Qyburn so much.  I tried to tell her that all he ever does is give me free books and help our family get better when we’re sick, but she never listens to me.I wonder if mother was this stubborn when she was my age.Oh well!I don’t want to upset her.She always tries so hard to look out for me and has more than enough to worry about already.What my mother doesn’t know can’t hurt her, most like._ _And she might not love me anymore if she knew besides.  No, that…that’s not true!  Mother will always love me no matter what, she promised and I...I remember how happy she was when I came back to Winterfell.  I should keep it a secret from her though…just to be safe._

_I don’t even kill all the mice.  That would be boring and Gods don’t just kill everyone besides.That’s what Ramsay would do!  Mother said me and my siblings are nothing like that stupid old bastard._ _The best part of becoming a God is at the beginning when I decide which mice get to live and which ones are going to die.I spare most of them…usually.I only need to pretend one or two of them are bad people like Beastly Barbrey or Robar and then I feel better._ Royce frowned as he realized that there was nothing he’d ever be able to say to make his mother understand that what he was doing was for the best. 

_Mother always said killing things that haven’t done anything bad to you is wrong or something like that.I don’t know why that’s such a big deal, but she wouldn’t be reminding me of it all the time unless it were really important.She probably has a good reason for saying that and I’ll understand when I’m older, most like.I’m not doing anything bad though; I’m really not!It’s not even the killing part that’s fun, I just…people make me so angry sometimes and it’s really important for me to find a healthy way to deal with my feelings, else I might lose my temper one day and do something really bad…This way I’m at least helping Qyburn with his work.He said it was important, but I don’t know why he cares so much about watching me cut his little white mice.He takes a lot of notes though…_

_I wish I had someone to talk to about it.Maybe…maybe someday I can even tell Nym about…NO! NO!NO!NO!NO!NEVER!  She might understand, but what if she didn’t?What would Nymeria think if she saw me hurt some innocent little baby mouse who never did anything bad to me?She loves animals so much and…_ Royce bit his lip and tried to imagine the look of horror on his younger sister’s face if she ever saw him cutting open some fuzzy little white mouse’s tiny belly with one of Qyburn’s knives, but it was no use.The thought alone hurt so much that the second youngest Bolton almost threw up all over himself before he could even see the look on his sister’s devastated face in his mind’s eye.  

_Everyone else can think whatever they want about me, even mother, but not Nym.We’re not like everyone else and…and I…no one else understands me!I wish I could let her come with me to Qyburn’s study.It’s so hard to keep this a secret!At least he gave me a really big book about_ _how the human body works.Randyll should stop wasting his time studying plants and animals while they’re alive, it’s much more fun to take them apart.I mean…not fun…just…umm…relaxing.Seven Hells, I need to stop procrastinating!This would all be so much easier if Nym was here; I could’ve just walked right over to Qyburn’s study and I’d be safe or…umm…I’d feel safe, at least._ “She’d never let anyone hurt me,” Royce whispered to no one in particular.  

_It won’t be like this forever!Someday Nymeria and I will rule The North all by ourselves and then things will be different.I’ll be King of the whole North, Nym can be Lord of Winterfell, and…and…umm…we’ll be able to do whatever we want!Well…maybe I should let mother help rule The North since she loves both of us so much...maybe.She wouldn’t betray Nym and me, I know she wouldn’t!Never!Mayhaps Randyll can help too if he doesn’t try to get in the way because he’s really good at acting like a grown-up...even though mother is always wroth with him.  Robar and father will simply have to go though, especially Robar.If he hasn’t already beaten me to death by then…_

_It must be so cool to be a King; I bet everyone treats you like you’re the smartest person there ever was and…well…actually everyone treats father like an idiot, but that’s only because father really is an idiot, most like.ANYWAY…no one will ever bully me or anyone else ever again when I’m King and maybe…maybe I won’t even need to hurt mice anymore.Qyburn’s work won’t matter then and I’ll be the type of King that The North deserves.A good one like mother said her father would’ve been…one who only kills bad people.  Well...that actually sounds kind of dumb, but Nym also seemed to think it was important not to kill people unless they really deserve it so maybe mother's right.   No one will pick on me though and...and...I just can’t wait to be King!  _

_Robar shouldn’t be saying I’m not a Bolton either!I’d stand up to that over-sized butthole if I weren’t so scared he’d wipe the floor with my guts.Nobody fought and died so that Robar could decide what a Bolton has to be like and I don’t have to be like him if I don't want to be.I’m just as much of a Bolton as anybody else in our family.Why can’t Boltons try to be good people?I mean…that sounds pretty stupid to me, but mother seems it’s important for some reason, so maybe…_

_Father says that she only cares about that because women are weak, but who cares what that bald butthole thinks?He never even wanted me anyway…or at least, that’s what he said when I asked him why he sent me to Barrowtown.But Robar and old man Roose think even he’s too merciful with our enemies, so maybe father had the right of it.Ramsay doesn’t count because he’s just some evil old bastard.Wait a minute…if we’re supposed to be merciful then why did mother use her scary voice to order the execution of that servant who almost poisoned me, Robar, and old man Roose when Domeric and Randyll were visiting Lord Cerwyn?_ Royce shuddered. 

Arya Bolton had used countless angry voice tones – along with resigned, exhausted, annoyed, amused, mischievous, proud, mildly encouraging, and frustrated ones – when her children misbehaved, but they were all mother voices.Royce had seen many terrifying things during his life – most of which involved either Robar, Skinner, or Ramsay Snow – but none could compare to the flat, emotionless voice his mother used when ordering that the man’s head be mounted on a spike.It was as though Royce’s loving protector had been replaced by some sort of cold, unfeeling…thing without a single drop of pity in its heart.  

The would-be murderer broke down in tears and begged for mercy, sobbing about how he’d served House Stark back when the Queen of The North was still just a little girl.  The man claimed that he didn’t try to poison Nym because she reminded him of Arya when she was a child.  For a moment, Royce thought his mother was going to spare the man’a life since she didn’t do anything except silently stare at the sobbing simpleton for at least ten seconds.  

Finally, the Queen of The North calmly offered to let Ramsay’s dogs decide what the punishment should be for someone who tried to hurt her children.The servant chose to be beheaded instead and Royce watched in fascination as his mother acted as though she couldn’t hear the man screaming that she’d betrayed her House…which didn’t even make any sense since the servant had just tried to kill three members of her House.  

The moment the man was dragged out of the room, Arya’s mother face came right back as if nothing had happened...even though she didn’t know any of her children were watching.Robar started babbling about how the scared the condemned man was of their mother and Nymeria began running around like a maniac making sure every single in the room knew that Arya Bolton was HER mother.However, Royce would’ve given anything to unsee that horrible moment.In truth, the second youngest Bolton still had nightmares about that day every once in awhile…only he was the person being sentenced to death by his mother.  

_But if there’s nothing wrong with killing traitors, then why was mother so upset when she realized old man Roose had made Robar, Nymeria, and me watch her deliver that man’s sentence?And why did Nym say she heard mother crying that night?  These rules about who it’s okay to kill are really confusing!I wish there were books about these sorts of things.I guess I could always ask Qyburn for a book about it...I mean…umm…FOCUS!_

_Okay, I can do this.I just have to put one foot in front of the other…and then another…and then another…and then…okay, good.I’m walking and everything’s fine.If any of those assholes try to push me around then…umm…I…I just have to stand up to them.Nym said yesterday that she thought I could take all three of those mean old buttholes at once if I fought back.I can do it!Deep breaths.I know I can handle Skinner.Even Robar would never actually try to kill me, most like.Ramsay though…I’m okay.This is going…umm…fine.I just have to find my happy place and…_

“YOU, dead kid!Get your worthless arse over here,” shouted Skinner, emerging from the darkness as if he’d been conjured by some sort of evil old witch’s spell.Royce’s eyes went straight to the bloody bandages wrapped around the left side of the cruel man’s face.Three weeks ago, Royce told his mother about how Skinner and Robar were bullying him.She convinced old man Bolton punish Skinner himself, but Robar retaliated by telling Ramsay why the left side of their friend's face had been flayed… _Deep breaths!Nymeria said she thought I could…umm…I mean…I…I can do this.I just need to pretend I’m not scared of Skinner.He can’t even hurt me since he’s not a Bolton, so I can say whatever I want._

“What do you want, Shitter?” _I don’t think I sounded too scared when I said that…_

“Seven Hells!IT’S SKINNER!S-K-I-N-N-E-R.Skinner!I’ve been here how many bloody years now?You’d think you cunts would’ve learned my bloody name by now.” 

“I guess you’re just a forgettable guy, Shinner.” 

“That one was on purpose, you little shit!” 

“Are you trying to lose your right eye too?”

“Careful, little boy.Mommy’s not here to save you this time.I don’t see your tiny widdle sister here either which means there ain't no more skirts left for you to hide behind.Here’s how this is going to work: You caused me a lot of pain and got your older brother in quite a bit of trouble not too long ago and I’m afraid that won’t do!Can’t just let things like that go unpunished, can we?” 

“I mean –” 

“No one asked what you think about it, you brown-eyed cunt.I’m going to hit you again and again and again until I feel like stopin’ and you’re not gonna say one word to your cunt mother or anyone else.Got it?”  

“But I –” 

“Look at you, shakin' like a whore who’s gotten so fat with child that she can hardly walk.Are you gonna wet your pants too?” 

“SHUT UP!  I mean …umm…wait –” 

“I’m really gonna enjoy this,” sneered Skinner. 

“You…umm…you…you can’t hurt me.I’m a Bolton of Winterfell and you’re not, so –” 

“Don’t worry about that, little boy.I came prepared ‘cause I'm just that kind of guy!”  

“Wait…you don’t mean…Robar’s here too?NO!NO!NO!FUCK ME,” screamed Royce as two large hands landed firmly on his shoulders.  

“Hello, Royce,” growled the heir to The North. 

“Umm…Robar...wait, let's not…umm…let's not do anything rash.  Can we just talk about –” 

“NO!Now which of us would you like to have choose your punishment?”  

“For what?” 

“Do you know what mother did after you told her that I was the one who’d hit you so hard that your left eye sealed shut?She said I’m not allowed leave this stupid castle for two months.Two…whole…MONTHS!Uncle Ramsay already thinks that I’m too craven to disobey her; what will he say when he finds out I’m not leaving Winterfell for two months to go hunting with him just because my mother told me not to?” 

“He’ll think that you need to stop being such a pussy and –” 

“Shut up, Slither; no one asked you!” 

“Yeah…umm…shut up, Spitter,” added Royce. 

“IT’S SKINNER!”  

“And I care because…oh right, I don’t,” replied Robar. 

“Wait a minute…does mother know that you’ve been going along with Ramsay when he chases after women in the woods with –” 

“NO AND IF YOU TELL HER, I WILL KILL YOU!”Suddenly, the second youngest Bolton felt two large hands wrap themselves around his throat, their grip tightening with each passing second.That was one of the reasons Robar was so dangerous: he didn’t know his own strength…nor was he terribly interested in listening when other people tried to warn him.  In truth, Robar probably didn't mean to cause his younger brother's left eye to swell shut, but the Giant of Winterfell was simply to strong – and clumsy – for his own good.  

“Point taken.You…can’t buh-breathe…can you…you can let…go of my…my neck now,” wheezed Royce.  

“Good.Now I’ll ask you one last time: who do you want to punish you?Me or Skinner?”A _t least he’s not choking me anymore.That’s a step in the right direction, I suppose…_

“I’m just…just gone…just gonna get…get beat up…either…either way.”  

“Yes, but every man has his own style…not that you’d know anything about being a man.Take uncle Ramsay, he likes to add a bit of panache to the proceedings when he’s punishing someone and no matter what, he always gives the dead a sporting chance.Me…well…I’m afraid I’ve never been much of a performer myself.I’ll probably just beat you to a pulp and if you take it like a man, we’ll call it a day and I'll see to it that no one bothers you until you've made a full recovery.Sound good?” _It’s not that simple and you know it, you stupid old butthole._   

Skinner was a nuisance…a really scary nuisance, but a nuisance all the same.Robar could hit you really, really hard…hard enough to make it not worth telling anyone.It didn’t help that at age thirteen, Royce’s eldest brother was already 6’2…well…it made him a little less coordinated, but that didn’t matter when he was standing right behind you.On the other hand, Robar didn’t seem to enjoy hurting people near as much as Skinner and Ramsay did.  In truth, he sometimes seemed like he was just going through the motions.That meant he’d usually get bored long before either of them would and leave you alone after a few minutes if you didn’t talk back to him.Fortunately, Robar was also as dumb as a rock and there was one way you could always make him forget he was about to beat you within an inch of your life. 

“Fine.You can pick the game’s rules, Robar, and I promise not to tell on you this time either.But…” 

“But…what?” 

“Why are you letting Skinhead say all those bad things about our mother?” 

“What,” blurted Skinner.  

“What did he say about our mother, Royce?”  

“Didn’t you hear him?”  

“How would I have heard him?I just got here and –”  

“He said it was our mother’s fault that father raped her.” _I don’t know why Robar thinks it’s rape since she’d already married father when it happened, but whatever works…I wish I could explain to mother what rape actually means, it’s a really bad word and she shouldn’t just toss it around at father even if he is a stupid old butthole._ Royce bit his lip.

_That would just make mother angry at me, most like.And I probably wouldn’t be able to change her mind about it besides.I wonder what Nym thinks about…NOPE!NO WAY am I asking her about that!  This must be one of those weird women’s things or something.   Anyway, it’s better to just smile, nod, and pretend to agree whenever Nymeria goes off on one of her tangents about stuff like that.At least it’s easy to know what I’m supposed to say when she goes on those weird rants…  _

“Seven Hells, how stupid are you?Your brother is just tryin’ to make us fight so he can run away.I didn’t say nothin’ about that cunt.  ‘Course the dumb bitch probably did wail like a whore on her weddin’ night, but that ain’t why we’re here.”  

“Men who don’t learn to mind their tongues tend not to have one for very long,” growled Robar, bearing his teeth at Skinner like a rabid dog as he released his youngest brother. 

“I’ll say whatever the fuck I…HEY!STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME,” shouted Skinner.Royce heard the sound of a man screaming somewhere in the distance, but by then he was already running as fast as his legs would carry him…only to trip an outstretched leg and go flying through the air.The second youngest Bolton landed headfirst on the stone floor.*THUD*The last thing Royce heard before he lost consciousness was Ramsay muttering something about having to do things yourself if you wanted them done right.  

…

Royce opened his eyes to find himself crumpled against a wall, his eldest brother towering over him. _That’s not fair!I was so close…_

“Ugggghhhh...Robar?Weren’t you going to –” 

“Discipline Skinner for what he said about our mother?Don’t worry, I’d already broken all five of the fingers on that fool’s left hand by the time uncle Ramsay brought you back.You should’ve just taken your beating.  Instead you ran away like a frightened little girl.That’s going to cost you…”  

“Can we please just get this over with,” whimpered Royce, trying his best to sound too pathetic to be worth his eldest brother’s time.Sometimes you could make people leave you alone by crying when they asked you a question you didn’t want to answer or by acting so pathetic that they couldn't help pitying you, but it was no use.If anything, it seemed to make Robar even angrier.Royce bit his lip. _Seven Hells, what do you even want anyway?Am I supposed to hit you?How stupid do you think I am?_

“We're going to try something new this time.I’m going to give you a chance to escape just like uncle Ramsay would if he were the one punishing you.You've probably noticed by now that the door is wide open, well…all you have to do is get past me and you’ll be free to go.Of course, I’m going to keep beating you until you manage to fight your way out.Sound like fun?Good.Let’s start right…what the fuck,” blurted Robar, stiffening like a wooden board.It was then that Royce realized that neither he nor his brother had noticed a third person creep into the room. 

“If you don't leave Royce alone, I’m going to shove father’s razor all the way up your arse.And don’t turn around until I give you permission either,” growled Nymeria.In truth, Royce could see that she was just holding a small stick, but there was no need for Robar to know that. 

“I don’t believe you,” grunted the Giant of Winterfell, although the care he took when turning around suggested otherwise. 

“I don’t care whether or not you believe me.  If you ever want to use the privy again, then you'd better leave our brother alone and never pick on him again!” _Seven Hells, this is so embarrassing!I’m twelve; I’ll be a man next year.I can’t keep letting Nym save me whenever Robar picks on me, else she’ll never take me seriously._

“Robar, he…he didn’t even hurt me.I’m fine!  Really, I can –” 

“No, you’re not," sighed Nymeria, rolling her eyes.  "Now shut up and let me –”  

“See, everything’s fine,” growled Robar.“Now piss off!” _He shouldn’t be talking to her that way…_

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size,” snapped Nym.  

“Because little people can’t fight back.Isn’t it obvious?”  

“I see.  So you only pick fights with people who are too weak to fight back like some stupid old craven.” _Does she mean…I’m weak?  But I'm not...this is a disaster!  Why could Robar have just beaten me up_ _before she got here?_  Royce bit his lip. 

“I’m the Crown Prince, not a Lord.” 

“Whatever,” muttered Nym, rolling her eyes as though she were sickened by the mere thought that she could possibly be related to someone who took pride in holding such a title.  

“I’m going try saying this nicely one last time and don’t say you’ll tell our mother because we both know you won’t; you never were near as big a craven as little Royce.If you don’t shut your cunt mouth right now then I’m going to shut it for you.Do you understand?”  

“Don’t call her a cunt,” whispered Royce as his fear rapidly gave way first to anger and finally to an almost unbearable hatred for the giant piece of shit standing in front of him.  

“You shut your cunt mouth!  And don't call me a 'cunt' either!You’d better…HEY!If you don’t put me down right now, I’ll tell mother that you kept going on hunts with that dumb bastard even after she said –”Robar lifted his sister off the ground as though she were as light as feather and threw her across the room.*THUD*The youngest Bolton slammed into the stone wall and then crashed down onto the floor as her eldest brother slowly made his way across the room.By now, coherent thought was nearly impossible.Royce bit his lip so hard that he could taste the blood seeping into his mouth, but that didn’t matter anymore.All that mattered was finding a sharp rock or broken piece of glass…anything that would allow him to satisfy the violent rage that had been building within him like a tidal wave seconds away from crashing into the shoreline and drowning any poor bastard unfortunate enough to cross its path. _I’m going to kill him…_

“Dumb bitch,” grunted Robar.Something broke inside of the second youngest Bolton when he heard his brother speak those two words.Whatever it was had only broken temporarily, most like…but it broke all the same.In that moment there was nothing that Royce wanted near as much as to cut open his eldest brother’s belly and take him apart one piece at a time as if the stupid old butthole were one of Qyburn’s little white mice.In the end, there was only one thing that Robar could do: charge directly at the dead man who had hurt the only other person in the world whom he truly cared about. 

Royce crashed into Robar's legs before the giant butthole even had a chance to react to the primal scream of rage that raced through the room like a bolt of lighting.  For his part, Robar was extremely uncoordinated on the best of days and certainly did not expect a screaming, adrenaline-fueled ball of murderous rage to come charging directly at him.  The two brothers both fell to the ground, but that didn’t matter either.Royce scrambled across his eldest brother’s body and began slamming Robar’s head into the stone floor. 

“SHUT UP!SHUT UP!SHUT UP!SHUT UP!SHUT UP!SHUT UP!” 

“Uggghhhh.What…what happened,” moaned the youngest Bolton. 

“SHUT UP!SHUT UP!SHUT UP!SHUT UP!” 

“ROYCE STOP,” shouted Nym.Royce’s anger crumpled like wet paper at the sound of his sister’s voice and he immediately did as he was bid.The second youngest Bolton was relieved to see that his sister was alright, but something about her choice of words felt…wrong.Royce bit his lip. _Why does she sound like she’s scolding a pet?I’m not some stupid dog!And Robar won’t be unconscious forever besides.  I won’t be able to kill him if I wait much longer.Maybe it doesn’t count as the kind of bad killing mother and Nym are always going off about if you have a good reason…_  

“What?Why?”  

“Because you could really hurt our brother.” 

“So what?Doesn’t he deserve to die?”  

“Sooooo, what do you think mother will do when she sees that one of her children is dead.” 

“I suppose that might upset her…” 

“Yes, it would upset her...A LOT!And father might send you away again besides.” 

“You…you’re both dead,” grunted the Giant of Winterfell.Royce replied by kicking his brother in the groin as hard as he could.Robar opted to keep the conversation going by screaming in pain and vomiting all over the floor. 

“Royce stop,” snapped Nymeria. 

“Fiiiiiiiine.” 

“ROYCE!”  _For the last time,_ _I’m not a bloody dog, so stop talking that way whenever you want me to do something!_ In truth, Royce always listened to his younger sister whenever she spoke in that tone of voice, but he still didn’t like being given commands.“Seven Hells, why are you even so angry at him anyway?He didn’t even hurt you today.”  

“Robar was trying to hurt you, so I made him stop.”Nym smiled for a moment and then, as if catching herself, rolled her eyes as if that were the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. 

“I know; you were very brave and I’m proud of you, but I don’t need you or anyone else to save me.”  

“You were going to try to save me, so why can’t I try to save you?  And how did you even know we were here anyway?Were you following me?”  

“Well SORRY for trying to help!” 

“Don’t worry, I forgive you, m’lady.”  

“HEY!You better not call me that ever again or I’ll –” 

“You’ll need me to come running to save you again,” snickered Royce. 

“I hate you!” _She isn’t wroth with me_ , the second youngest Bolton reminded himself. _We always talk like this whenever she’s really happy about something I’ve done.  I knew she'd understand...even if she won't let me kill Robar for some reason._  

“OH YEAH?  Well I…I hate you more!”  

“Fuuuuck, I think…I think I’m dying,” moaned Robar.

“DO NOT!I hate you more times a hundred!” 

“I hate you more times a million,” Royce countered.  

“I hate you more times a million plus one!” 

“I hate you more than anyone else in Westeros has ever hated anyone ever,” Royce triumphantly announced.Nymeria, evidently unimpressed, simply rolled her eyes at her youngest brother. _Wait a minute…how long was Randyll standing there?_  

“Don’t say anything; I reaaaally don’t want to know.Just…please don’t act all weird like that when I’m around.What happened to him,” grunted Randyll, glancing at his older brother. 

“Who?  Robar?  Oh, nothing much.He fell and we were just…making sure he was okay.Are you okay, Robar?Mayhaps Ramsay can help; Royce why don't you go tell Lord Snow how our dear brother was injured,” asked Nymeria with a wicked grin. 

“NO!I…I’m fine,” wheezed Robar.  

“Fine, don’t tell me.I didn’t want to know anyway!Listen, mother said to tell you three that it’s time for dinner.She wouldn’t wait for me if I was late, most like,” muttered Randyll. _Probably not…_ “Why do our parents love all of you so much more than me?  What do you three idiots have figured out that I don’t?” 

“I’m fine…don’t…don’t tell uncle Ram–”Robar threw up a second time.  

“I can’t believe I’m related to any of you,” sighed Randyll.“Look at you: Robar’s on the floor rolling around in his own vomit in pain insisting that he’s never been better in his life.And you two are even worse!I can’t tell if you’re about to murder each other, make-out, or do both at the same time, but I know I didn’t need to see my little brother and sister talking to each other that way.Seriously, don’t do that again…EVER!It’s fucking weird…and really, really creepy.It would be weird and creepy even if you weren’t my bloody brother and sister.I don’t want to know what that was about, but I can tell this much: I'd rather freeze to death at The Wall then hear you too talk to each other that way ever again.In fact, I’m not even going to tell anyone because I don’t want to think about it.So just don’t do it again, deal?”Royce shrugged. 

“Whatever,” muttered Nymeria, rolling her eyes. 

“Robar, get off the fucking floor or I’ll tell –” 

“Ramsay?”  
  
“Yeah, that guy.Get up and move your arse to the Great Hall or I’ll tell him that you couldn’t make it to dinner because you fell and broke your balls on the floor."  
  
“Just…please…can’t walk.I can crawl…”

“Whatever.Just pull yourself together and be there before dinner starts.Mother never trusts me to do anything and this could be my only chance to show her that she doesn’t have to hate me.If I do this right then maybe she won’t think I’m completely worthless…And…and…and if any of you screw this up for me then I...I...I WILL END ALL THREE OF YOU,” roared Randyll.  


	3. Arya

“Where is Robar,” asked the Queen of The North.Arya frowned and tried not to be wroth with her second son, but it was no use.For all that the Queen of The North wanted to think of Randyll as her son rather than as some sort of evil blue-eyed monster waiting for another chance to strike – to be a mother to him – it got harder and harder with each passing year.It didn’t even matter whether the hapless child meant well; Arya couldn't look at him without remembering what he'd almost done to Nymeria and Rickon.In truth, Randyll only made things worse by trying so hard to prove that he could be a good son.He always seemed to either make a hash of it or choose the worst possible time. _He shouldn’t made up such horrid lies about his own kin, especially not in front of Rickon._

“I found Royce and Nymeria, but Robar said he won’t be able to make it to dinner,” Randyll replied, plainly lacking even the decency to be ashamed of himself for failing the simple task that had been assigned to him.  

“Seven Hells, can’t you do any–”  

“I’m quite certain our son did his best.And it would be rude not to give him a chance to explain his failure besides.” _Randyll isn’t our son; he’s YOUR son!Nymeria, Royce, and Robar are my children.Randyll isn’t a Bolton or a Stark, he’s just…NO!Even if he’ll never be like the rest of my children, he’s still one of them.  I won’t let Domeric or Lord Bolton ruin any of them; they're going to grow up to be good people: Boltons of Winterfell, not Boltons of The Dreafort.  They…they’re all I have left.Bran’s not even my brother anymore and Rickon hates me, but that was Randyll's fault..._

“If you really cared about Randyll, you'd stop defending him whenever he does anything wrong.You’re only hurting him when you do that.I bet the reason Randyll always makes a hash of everything he touches is that he knows there won’t be any consequences if he never manages to do even one simple thing right before he dies,” Arya replied.   In truth, the Queen of The North was so wroth with her second son that she'd only just noticed that Royce's eyes were closed and that he had a finger jammed firmly in each ear.  Arya suddenly felt a small pang of guilt in her chest for upsetting Royce like this, but there was simply nothing to be done.  Domeric would never punish Randyll for anything, that much was certain.   _Seven Hells, not even I was this loyal to my siblings when I was Royce's age.  I don't understand why he always seems to get so upset whenever I talk like this to Randyll.  Royce is already smarter than Domeric ever was and he saw how Randyll's lies almost got Nymeria killed.  He should know better than to feel sorry for Randyll.  You can't trust people like Randyll.  If you do, then they'll just trick you into hurting someone you care about...just like Lord Bolton did at The Twins.  It could still be a good thing that Royce doesn't like seeing Randyll get in trouble; at least he understands what it means to be part of a family._

“Our son merely failed to bring one of his brothers with him as you had requested.  It matters not at all.  And you would not give it a second thought were it Robar, Royce, or Nymeria, I think.”  

“He failed, that's what matters.  Mayhaps you'd know that if you didn't waste so much time whining about how you hate being King of The North."  

"You will be silent."  

"Yes, Your Grace.  I was planning to keep insulting you to my heart's content, but I don't know how I can possibly say another word now that you've told me to be silent.  I can see why you did said that too since it has always worked so well all the other times you've tried it."  

“I said –"  

"I can't stop you from ignoring the fact that Randyll will probably never do anything right on his first try, but I'm not just going to look the other way while he makes a hash out of everything he touches.  Randyll may be the least of us, but he will never amount to anything if you keep treating him like a half-wit who's not even responsible for his own mistakes."  Arya glanced at her second oldest son and bit her lip when she saw the look on the boy's face.   _I wasn't trying to hurt him when I said that...not really.  I just...I just got carried away is all.  No matter what he's done, he's still my son.  I almost made him cry.  No mother should ever talk that way about one of her children..._   Arya wanted to take back what she'd said and reassure Randyll that she would always love him no matter what...even after what he'd done.  She wanted to tell him that he would always be her son and that he was just as important to her as his siblings, but the words kept getting stuck in her throat.  All she could do was look away in shame for a few seconds until her guilt was washed away by an even stronger wave of anger.  

"Enough.  If it will bring an end to your babbling, I shall permit you to deal with this matter as you wish,” muttered Domeric.  

“I don’t need your permission!”  

“Mother, I –”  

“Not another word, Randyll!”  

“But I...I couldn’t…I mean…Robar...umm...fell down the...steps.  He fell down the steps and –”  

"And you just left him there?  What if Robar was seriously hurt and needed your help?  How could you have such a reckless disregard for your own brother's well-being," asked Nymeria in voice dripping with sarcasm.  Arya glanced at her daughter and frowned.   _No matter what Randyll has done, he's still you're brother_.   _Could you at least pretend not to be enjoying this quite so much?  He's still your brother._

"Piss off, you lying –"  

"RANDYLL BOLTON!  DON'T YOU DARE TALK TO YOUR SISTER THAT WAY!"   _How dare you call Nym a liar after what you did to Rickon and her!  She was attacked by her own uncle because of your lies and Rickon...was never the same after that.  You forced me to choose between him and my own children._

"Wait, you don't under –"  

“I'm going to give you one more chance to apologize to your sister.  After that, you are to spend the rest of the night taking care of Robar and you can sup all by yourself once he’s feeling better.”  

“But she...I...I mean...sorry, mother."  Nymeria used her index fingers to pull her lower gums as far as she could and stuck her tongue out at her second eldest brother.   _I know Randyll deserved to be punished, but that isn't helping.  Seven Hells, now Domeric's wroth with her_.  

"You need to apologize to your sister.  She's the one you insulted," sighed Arya, rubbing her forehead in frustration.  

"Sorry, Nym," muttered Randyll.  

"Nym, do you accept your brother's apology?  Nym?  Nymeria!"    

"Oh...umm...right, sorry, mother.  That's okay, Randyll, I know you didn't mean to talk to me that way."  

"Mother, she's lying!  I know that you know she's just trying to get me in trouble again.  She does this all the time and you always take her side.  You're my mother too!"  

“Get out...now,” Arya replied in a voice so cold that even Nymeria seemed to shiver at every word.

“Yes, mother,” sighed Randyll before finally leaving the room.  

“Impressive,” muttered Domeric. 

“Shut up!” 

“Mind your tongue.”  
  
“You mind your stupid tongue!” 

“If you continue to insist upon speaking in such a rude manner then I fear I shall be forced to invite your brother Rickon to sup with us.  He can sit next to Nymeria, I think.”  Arya bit her lip as her daughter's face grew as pale as warm milk.  

“No, I…I’m sorry, my Lord...I mean...Your Grace.Please, don't…don’t let Rickon in the same room as my…I mean…our children.The last time you did that, he –” 

“He went mad because of some remark Randyll claimed Nymeria had made about your mother's death.  The bloody madman leapt onto the table and attacked her before Randyll had even finished speaking.  The fool would have opened her throat with his knife had you not tackled him to the ground.  Your dear brother then called you a traitor and kept trying to kill you until you were forced to stab him in his left leg.He’s walked with a limp ever since, I think.Of course, you did give the proper sentence after I was kind enough to permit you to decide your brother’s punishment.Instead of executing him, you ordered that he reside in a dungeon cell for the rest of his life.” 

“I said he only had to stay there until he could convince me that he’d never try to hurt any of my children ever again.I go to the dungeons every night to see if it's safe to let him out of his cell.  He's going to get better someday.”  

“And what did he say last night?”Arya bit her lip.   _Rickon said he was sorry for how he’d acted and promised not to hurt any of my children, but he was lying.If he was telling the truth, he wouldn’t have pretended that he didn’t hate me anymore._ In truth, Rickon’s face had been an open book that night; just like every other time the Queen of The North had tried to reason with her youngest brother. _Rickon, he…he wishes he’d killed me the day that he attacked Nymeria.He’s still my brother and I’ll always love him, but it's not safe to let him out of his cell.  It...it's for his own good.  Lord Bolton would kill him if he ever actually hurt a member of our House._

“He’s getting better.  He might even be able to come out soon,” Arya lied.  

“It matters not at all.So long as he only attempts to harm our daughter, there is nothing to fear, I think.She is of the wrong sex to be anything of value aside from a breeding mare for some Lord.While marrying off our daughter is admittedly beneath the consideration of a King and thus a task for members of the weaker sex such as yourself, I fear that your refusal to permit the useless child to be betrothed means that the girl’s life has no value.It is a terrible thing to spend one’s whole life knowing that you are nothing and will never be wanted or needed by anyone.Why you have chosen to needlessly inflict such a cruel and wretched fate upon that stubborn fool, I will never know.In truth, the girl’s absurd delusions of grandeur are not entirely her fault.You’re as much to blame for filling her head with such foolish notions as –” 

“But I…I mean…do you really think my life has no value?  None?  You really think that I’m completely worthless,” asked Nymeria, her voice cracking more and more with every word.  

“‘Worthless’ is as good a word as any, I think.”  By now, Royce had begun stabbing the table with his knife over and over again.  But that didn't matter right now...not really.  Nothing did...nothing except making sure Domeric didn't kill all of his daughter's hopes and dreams in the crib like so many fathers before him.  

“But...but you’re my father.  Doesn’t that mean you’re still supposed to love me at least a little bit?  Is it about Randyll?  I...I didn't mean it!  I'm sorry, I was just –”  

“This has nothing to do with any of your brothers.  Now tell me, what could possibly have made you think that I care about you in the least, much less love you?I fear I must needs apologize if I ever gave you that impression as I assure you it is most certainly not the case.You are little more than the latest in a long line of curses which The Old Gods have seen fit to inflict upon me for their own amusement.In truth, I might hate you near as much as your mother were you important enough to warrant the energy it would take to muster such feelings.I trust we have adequately cleared the air.” 

“Nymeria is just as important as our sons!  She’s still our daughter even if you’re too stupid to love her as much as our other children.And you always ignore Royce and Robar too besides.The only one you ever have any time for is Randyll!  You're a terrible father and you always will be, so it doesn't even matter how you feel about her.”  

“Randyll is the only one of our children who has proven himself to be worthy of the Bolton name, I think.Robar and Royce combined hardly amount to half of our second son’s value, but at least they are still members of the superior sex.  In truth, there may yet be hope for Royce if you haven’t ruined the poor boy by filling his head with your delusions about each sex’s proper place in the world.  Not even that much can be said for Nymeria.  Nymeria, the witch Queen of Dorne.A fittingly dishonorable name for a child who will never be anything more than a decidedly unwanted mistake born from a cruel accident of nature.”Nymeria slumped down in her seat and began looking down at the table as if unable to even make eye-contact with her father.  

Royce got up from his seat and tried to hug his sister, only to be pushed away.  The second youngest Bolton glumly returned to his seat with a look of bitter defeat etched on his face like words on a stone tablet.   _Nymeria isn’t wroth with Royce.  He couldn’t make her angry if he tried, most like.  She doesn’t want anyone to know that she’s crying,_ Arya realized.“In truth, she’s not worth the cost of the food it takes to feed her and is leeching off her betters.Alas, she is still a Bolton and so she cannot simply be put down like an ordinary –” 

“Nymeria is one of the smartest, strongest, best people I’ve ever known and she’d be ten times the Lord you are!  What the Seven Hells is even wrong with you anyway?What did she ever do to make you treat her this way?” 

“She was born," Domeric coldly replied.By now, Nymeria was plainly too upset to even pretend that she hadn’t been deeply wounded by her father’s words.The Queen of The North watched in horror as her daughter buried her head in her arms and began quietly sobbing…still trying in vain to keep anyone from hearing her.  

"That doesn’t even make any sense.  Did you think raping your wife was some sort of bird call to summon a stork?  When you get someone with child, they give birth to one or more children.  If you didn’t want any children then you should’ve stood up to Lord Bolton for once and refused to do it.”  

"It is simple enough, I think.  A child who will be born a member the weaker sex should have the decency to die in its mother’s belly rather than inflicting such a cruel burden upon its kin.Better to have no children than even one daughter.”Arya desperately wanted to say something…anything to make that stupid bald monster shut up before he put out the fire in their daughter’s pale, blue eyes that seemed to burn even brighter every time someone tried to extinguish it, but the Queen of The North couldn’t seem to make the words come out of her mouth.In truth, her anger was already so great that it was near impossible to even form coherent thoughts, much less actually articulate them. _Why couldn’t that servant have tried to poison you instead of my children?  If you don't leave her alone right now..._

“It would seem that I am finally getting through to the girl.It is good that this makes our daughter cry, I think.Her tears suggest that she is finally beginning to grasp the sheer futility of her existence.In truth, this has been an unexpectedly productive discussion.Now then, I want you to listen to me very carefully, Nymeria.You may be feeling as though you wish to simply put yourself out of your misery at the moment.While I understand the impulse and will not chide you on that score, I fear that I cannot condone such a course of action.As I said, such a reaction would be entirely understandable, but I fear it is simply not your decision to make.Someday you will be a Lord’s property just as your mother is my property and it is hardly fair to your future husband, whomever that unfortunate soul may be, for you to kill yourself prior to being wed.We must consider his needs, after all.If this hurts then it is only because your mother has infected your mind with her own foolishness.I trust you will thank me one day for helping you see reas–” 

“SHUT UP,” roared the Lone Wolf.“Don’t listen to that monster, Nymeria!Do you hear me?Anyone who says you can’t be a Lord someday or…or…do whatever you want just because you’re a girl is a liar.Your father is just an evil raper who wants to make everyone else as miserable as he is because he made such a hash of his own pathetic excuse for a life.Do you hear me, Nym?You shouldn’t listen to anything he says and…it’s not true, I promise!You and your brothers are all going to do great things someday!You’ll see!Maybe you’ll even be a Lord or…or whatever you want to be someday.You can’t let people like Domeric stand in your way!Who cares what that evil old liar thinks anyway?I promise that you and your brothers will ALWAYS be the most important people to me in all of Westeros no matter what.I’d die if anything happened to even one of you.I will always love you and you will always matter to me.Do you hear me, Nym?Nymeria?Please, I…I need to know that you understand or –” 

“It matters not at all what you need, I think.And her needs matter even less than yours besides.” 

“YOU MADE NYM CRY, YOU STUPID BALD BUTTHOLE!I HATE YOU,” screamed Royce, repeatedly stabbing the table with his knife as he spoke. _I hope Lord Bolton didn’t hear that; he usually sups alone and when he can hear us arguing, he punishes everyone…_

“You too?Very well.Hate away,” muttered Domeric.  

“SHUT UP!YOU’D BETTER LEAVE MY SISTER ALONE RIGHT NOW!SHE’S JUST AS GOOD AS ME OR ANYONE ELSE AND CAN BE LORD OF WINTERFELL IF SHE WANTS TO,” roared Royce.In that moment, Arya could not have been prouder of anyone than she was of her youngest son for standing up for his sister so forcefully.In truth, the Queen of The North was certain that she could forgive Royce for near anything after all the times she’d seen him insist that his sister and him be treated as equals.It was times like this which made it possible to overlook the more...troubling things that her youngest son did from time to time. 

There was plainly something wrong with Royce by the time he returned from Barrowtown, but it seemed to be getting better as he got older and he wasn’t near as aggressive as he used to be besides.But even if he had only mellowed somewhat with age, the fierce loyalty Royce and his sister had to each other was all the proof that Arya needed to know she’d done something right when raising them.They were the only ones who seemed to understand that families were supposed to always be there for each other.There was still hope for Robar and maybe even Randyll, but Nymeria and Royce seemed to almost instinctively understand what it meant to be part of a family.  

_Royce is a bit…strange and he tried to kill a cat when he was little, but he didn’t mean it…not really.He just…needed some extra guidance was all.   But Royce is the most loyal person I’ve ever met and he's still a good person besides.I wish Robar would stop picking on him.Robar was always terrible at choosing friends and when he’s King of The North, he’ll need good, smart, and loyal people like Royce by his side to make sure that people like Lord Snow and Skinner aren’t able to bully or trick him into being their puppet.  I can't trust Randyll to help Robar though...Seven Hells, why couldn’t Randyll have been more like Royce?_

“Did you just tell me to shut –” 

“You…you made her cry!Nymeria, she…she’s still crying and I…I…I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU STUPID BALD JERK,” bellowed Royce.The second youngest Bolton leapt onto the table, knife in hand, and proceeded to charge directly at his father.Arya tried to grab her son before he made the biggest mistake of his life, but it was no use…he was too far away. _Not again!The cat was one thing; you were too young to know what you were doing, but if you even knick Domeric…What if Lord Bolton kills Royce or sends him to The Wall?I can’t lose him!Not Again!He was getting better and…not today!Not today!Not today!Not today!_

“ROYCE SIT!”Nymeria’s voice cracked through the air like a whip and Arya watched in confusion as every trace of anger seemed to vanish from her youngest son’s face.Royce gave his mother and sister a strange, sheepish look for a moment and then began meekly walking back across the table toward his seat like a chastened child without uttering so much as a single word.   _But wait…how did…what…what just happened?Royce isn’t some sort of dog.Even if that was really…strange, it’s probably nothing that bad…not really.I bet she’s never even talked to Royce that way before.I just…need to ask them about it at some point is all._ Suddenly, Domeric stood up and Arya’s full attention instantly shifted to protecting her children from the bald monster slowly approaching them.  

“Royce, that display was near as rude as it was unacceptable.This will not serve.Cutting off a few toes is a fair punishment for your behavior, I think.Pick three and be quick about it, I fear the servants are probably afraid to enter the room with our food until this matter has been resolved,” growled the King in The North. 

“Domeric, I want you to listen to me very carefully.If you ever threaten flay or cut any of our children again, I will kill you.If you ever order Ramsay to hurt any of our children for you, I will kill you.And if I ever hear you talking to my daughter that way again for any reason, I will kill you.Do you understand,” asked the Queen of The North in a voice as flat as a wooden board.In truth, the look of terror on Royce’s face when Arya began speaking was like a razor-sharp arrowhead burrowing it’s through the Queen of The North's heart, but it was the only way to keep Domeric from hurting her youngest son. _I’m sorry for scaring you Royce.I’m only doing this because I love you, I promise!I’m not going to kill your father…not really.Lord Bolton would kill Rickon or flay one of you if I did and I’d be a kinslayer besides.I’ve never had a chance to kill that evil raper without getting someone else in my family killed.I won’t let anyone else end up like mother and Robb because of me!NEVER!_ The Lone Wolf looked the King in The North directly in the eye the same way that Lord Bolton had taught her many years ago at Harrenhal.Domeric broke eye-contact almost instantly – just like he always did – and Arya knew she had won. 

“You speak as though you believe I fear you.And even if I did, you couldn’t hurt me if you tried.I’m far stronger than you and if you could’ve killed me then you’d have done so many years ago, I think.” _Of course I can’t kill you, stupid.That doesn’t mean you’re not too craven to hold your ground.No wonder Lord Bolton can make you do whatever he wants, you can’t stand up to anyone who talks to you the way he does._

“Maybe I can’t kill you; you’re bigger, stronger, and faster than me.So why don't you threaten to cut off one of Royce’s toes again and see what happens.Well…what are you waiting for?Do it…if you’re really not afraid.” 

“I will!” 

“Fine.Just remember what I said…” 

“It’s not worth the aggravation, I think,” muttered Domeric.“I am of a mind to sup alone.” 

“Good!No one *sniff* no one even wants you here anyway,” snapped Nymeria.Domeric raised his hand as if to strike her…only to lower it.

“I trust that one of you will inform me when you are finished,” muttered the King in The North. _Stupid craven.You’ll threaten to mutilate or beat your two youngest children, but you’re scared of me just because I looked you in the eye and talked the way your father does.Some King you are…_  

There was a part of Arya that almost felt sorry for the Lord Bolton's trueborn son...almost.  Domeric didn’t have to be a monster, most like.The Queen of The North didn’t hate Domeric any less as a result, but she’d come to understand that he was a different sort of monster than Ramsay.The Bastard of Bolton had plainly become a sadistic monster all by himself, but Domeric was molded into one when he was just a little boy, most like.None of that mattered right now though.Nothing did…nothing except scaring Domeric into leaving Royce and Nymeria alone and making sure that he never bothered either of them ever again.  

… 

Before long, Royce and Nymeria were laughing and playing with their food as though nothing had happened.While she oft told her two youngest children not to behave like little Wildlings at the table, Arya found that she simply didn’t have the heart to spoil their fun this time…not after everything that had just happened.Instead, a gentle smile spread across the Queen of The North’s face as she watched her two youngest pups cheer each other up. 

Lord Bolton had plainly noticed Royce and Nymeria’s bond too.In truth, few things pleased Arya more than seeing the look of complete and utter disgust upon her good-father’s face whenever he saw his two youngest grandchildren happily playing together instead of fighting like mortal enemies.Eventually, the Queen of The North realized that the best way to get revenge on the Boltons wasn’t by killing them like Rickon wanted; it was by destroying Lord Bolton’s legacy.  It didn’t matter who had the Bolton family name...not really.You could be a member of House Bolton and still be a Stark in the really important ways.As long as she raised her children to be good people instead of sadistic monsters, Arya knew that everything House Bolton stood for would die with Lord Bolton and his children…and it would die by her hand.  

_I wish Sansa would write to me or answer even one of the ravens I sent to The Eyrie.No matter what either of us has done, we’re still sisters.You’re not supposed to turn your back on your family.I don’t hate her and she…she probably wishes I was dead…just like Rickon.  Why else wouldn’t she try to write to me after all this time?  It’s not like anyone could stop her if she wanted to now that she’s Lady of The Vale.  People say that she has Lord Arryn wrapped around her finger and...I don’t care what anyone says, Sansa wouldn’t just use someone like that!  Cousin Robin and her really love must really love each other.  Did The Vale declare war on The North because Sansa found out what really happened at The Twins?_   Arya bit her lip. _I wish Bran was still here; he never hated me…not until he became Reek.Even if Rickon and Sansa hate me, as long as I don’t lose my children, I’ll never be alone ever again!_

_At least cousin Robin won’t invade The North no matter how much Sansa hates me, most like.Everyone says that he does whatever Sansa tells him to and the Vale Knights put all the Freys to the sword when they conquered the Riverlands during the Southron War of Succession, but The Kingdom of The Valelands doesn’t have near as strong an army as we do…not anymore.And the other two Kingdoms are too far away to attack us without invading the Vale first besides.No one will ever even go to war with The North while my children are alive, most like.Domeric doesn’t even care enough about anything outside of Winterfell to get involved in some stupid Southron war._

Arya glanced at her two youngest children just in time to see Nymeria whisper something in her brother’s ear.Royce’s eyes grew so wide that they looked as though they were about to fall right out of their sockets and the second youngest Bolton accidentally hit himself the nose with a spoon full of mashed potatoes. 

“Are you okay?You know the spoon goes in your mouth, right?”  


“I just…yes, mother,” stammered Royce.“I’m fine.It’s nothing…I mean…can Nym and I be…umm…I mean…can I be excused.Right now?Please?”  

“You don’t sound fine.”  

“Really?Well, I am!I’ve never been better! Can I be excused now?” _Wait a minute…_

“What did your sister just say to you?”  

“Oh nothing, she just…told me a funny joke is all.  Can we...I mean...can I please be excused now?  

“Royce, what have I told you about lying?” 

“That you always…umm…always know when your children are lying to you?” 

“Right.  Now let's try again...the truth this time.” 

“Do I have to?” 

“Well when you put it like that, what else can I say except…'yes?’” 

“She…I mean…Nym asked if I –” 

“I asked him if he would try talking that way the next time Robar picked on him.I thought he was very brave and that no one would bother him ever again if he sounded half as angry at them as he did when he was talking to father.” 

“I can tell when you’re lying too, Nymeria.Seven Hells, this is actually something really bad, isn’t it?How am I supposed to let this go now that both of you have lied to my face about –” 

“I wish it was safe to let Royce kill our father.”  

“NYMERIA BOLTON!” 

“What?You just threatened to kill him.” 

“I wasn’t actually going to kill your father.I just…needed him to think I was so he wouldn’t hurt either of you.”  

“Oh.But you wish he was dead too, don’t you?”  

“I mean…yes, but it’s…complicated.” 

“How so,” asked Royce with far too much interest for his mother’s liking. 

“Can I pretend you were going to kill him?Father was too craven to look you in the eye.He’s weak and doesn’t even deserve to be King besides.” 

“Kinslaying is wrong no matter what the other person has done to you.You both know that…right?” 

“Yes, mother,” the Lone Wolf’s two youngest children answered, speaking in perfect unison. 

“Good, now can we…umm…can we talk about something else.” 

“Yes, mother.”  

“Seven Hells, what have I told you two about talking at the exact same time?” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to creep you out.I just thought it might be a funny jape,” Nymeria sighed. 

“It doesn’t matter.Just…please don’t do that when I’m around ever again and I won’t make you tell me what the two of you were whispering about.Deal?”  

“Okay, mother.I…umm…I’m sorry for flying off the handle like that earlier.It’s just…father, he was hurting Nym and…I mean…he didn’t hit her, but he hurt her all the same which is why she was crying.I just got so angry and I…I hate that stupid bald butthole!I hate him!I hate him!I hate him!He shouldn’t be talking to my sister that way and neither should anyone else!He was trying to make her feel like she was worthless and think that what she wanted doesn’t matter which is stupid because someday she’s going to be the best Lord of Winterfell ever and there's nothing he can do about it!”  

Arya couldn’t help smiling at the look of absolute adoration Nymeria was giving her youngest brother as he spoke, especially when she saw the way her daughter’s head spun away the second Royce looked in her direction.She was plainly too stubborn to ever give her brother the satisfaction of seeing just how much his words meant to her.That didn’t matter though…not really.The important thing was that the Lone Wolf knew her two of her children would each have someone looking out for them when she died.One needed only to hear the sincerity in Royce’s voice or glance at Nymeria’s pale, blue eyes to see how special a bond the two siblings shared with each other. 

_They love each other and they always will too, most like.Lord Bolton wasn’t able to turn them into monsters like his sons.Nymeria and Royce are good!They…they’re the best things I’ve ever made; raising them to be good people is the best thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.Maybe when I die, mother and Robb will see all of the good things my children have done for The North when they’re adults and finally forgive me for what happened at The Twins…_

“Mother, I…I have a question.I don’t want Royce to answer because I need to hear it from you.”  

"What’s wrong with me,” blurted the second youngest Bolton.    

“Nothing, it’s just…you wouldn’t tell me the truth if the answer was bad.You’d be too worried about hurting my feelings, most like.Mother, I need you to promise that you’re not going to just say something nice to make me feel better.” 

“I promise.I will always be honest with you; what’s wrong?” 

“Is what Royce said true?Could I really be Lord of Winterfell when I’m a woman grown?Even though I’m a girl?If father was telling the truth and I really am worthless or don’t matter to anyone then I…I need to know that right now.”The Lone Wolf saw that twin clouds of grief had formed in the poor girl’s sad, blue eyes.Tears began dribbling down the youngest Bolton’s cheeks like tiny drops of rain amidst a storm of sorrow. 

“Nymeria, I want you to listen to me very carefully.Don’t EVER let anyone tell you that you are worthless!Never!You matter to me and –” 

“You matter to me,” Royce added. 

“See, Royce cares too.And you also matter to your other two brothers too, I know you do!We’re not like your father or Lord Bolton and we never will be either.You, me, and your brothers…even Randyll, we’re a family.Families take care of each other no matter what.Do you understand?” 

“But could…can I be a Lord someday?Or maybe even –” 

“Of course you can, Nym!Maybe not of Winterfell since your brothers are all older than you, but there are other places in The North too.  Things will be different when Robar becomes King.He won’t try to stop you from doing something important just because you’re a girl.You’ll see!”  
  
“But how do you know?What if…what if Robar is like father?” 

“He won’t be; I raised him better than that!He just…needs to mature a bit more is all.” 

“So I…I can really do whatever I want someday?You promise?”Arya smiled lovingly at her daughter and nodded her head. 

“Yep.As long as you don’t let Domeric, Lord Bolton, or anyone else stand in your way, you can do whatever you want.I promise!”The look on Nym’s face told the Queen of The North all she needed to know.Nymeria had plainly taken her mother’s words to heart and her determination to choose her own destiny was stronger than ever, that much was certain.No one would be able to hurt the youngest Bolton the way Domeric had ever again and all because Nym had received the encouragement that no one had ever given to another young girl with sad eyes who lived at Winterfell many years ago…one who had just saved her own daughter from a lifetime of pain and self-doubt simply by saying “yes” instead of “no.”Arya knew she’d done a great thing for her daughter and that this would always be one of the happiest moments in both of their lives.  


	4. Robar | Arya

**Robar**

Although he could still feel his stomach in his throat, Robar had finally managed to get up and walk – no thanks to Randyll, who was simply whine about his own trivial problems – albeit in a state of constant pain. 

“Why didn’t you want our sister to tell Lord Bolton's bastard about how you got hurt,” asked Randyll with a special sort of contempt typically reserved for Umbers, Wildlings, and other subhuman creatures. _You really don’t get it, do you?Our mother’s never even going to love you near as much as me, so what makes you think she’d ever choose you over Nym?_ _Just accept that she’ll always hate you and get on with your life._

“You shouldn’t call uncle Ramsay a bastard and it’s none of your business besides.Now stop following me around,” growled the Crown Prince of The North as he began slowly making his way back to his chambers. _Don’t you have anything better to do?Seven Hells, I was doing Royce a bloody favor.He needs to learn that there are consequences when you rely on other people to solve your problems for you.He can’t just hide behind our mother’s – or worse yet, our younger sister’s – skirts for his entire life.   Why is it that no good deed ever goes unpunished?I tried to help scare Royce into acting like a real man and the bloody lunatic almost killed me for being a little rougher than necessary when trying to make our sister shut her bloody mouth.Skinner just wanted an excuse to hurt someone, but I'm nothing like that dumb brute.  Royce should be thanking me; I was being a good brother!I can’t believe that little brat kicked me in the balls when I was down on the ground.You don’t hit someone there unless they’re about to kill you.Everyone knows that!  _

“Mother said I can’t eat until I’ve made sure you’re alright.Since you’re taking such a long time to waddle to your chambers, the least you can do is entertain me in the meantime since I’m stuck babysitting your worthless –”  

“She’s always going to hate you.  You know that, right?Our mother may get wroth with me sometimes, but she’ll always love me no matter what I do.You though…well…it must suck getting up every day knowing that even your own mother probably wishes you were never born.”  

“Shut up!She –” 

“What?She loves you,” sneered Robar, rolling his eyes.“Fine.Look me in the eye and tell me that I’m wrong.That’s what I thought…”  

“Our father –”  

“Domeric’s not my father in any of the important ways and you're the only one he's ever made time for besides.I’m going to kill him someday for what he did to our mother...”  

“Father would beat you like a red-haired Starkling if you ever tried to hurt him.You’d be begging for mercy in less than a minute.” _I don’t care how nice you think that monster is to you, uncle Ramsay has been more of a father to me than Domeric ever was...even if he does really bad things to people sometimes._

“Would not!”  

“Would too!”  

“Would not!”  

“Why do you even hate him so much anyway?”  

“He raped our mother, you idiot!”  

“So?”  

“You see, Randyll, that right there is why no one likes you.You’ve never been any good at seeing things from other people’s perspectives.”  

“Fuck you!”  

“I would respond in kind, but I fear a sword-swallower like you might take such a remark the wrong way,” sneered Robar.  

“I am NOT a sword-swallower, you oversized piece of –” _At least I can take comfort in the knowledge that I can always make you even more miserable than I am simply by speaking of your disease._

“And Uncle Ramsay’s not a bastard.”  

“Even if…I mean…shut up!And just because I had some weird dream that I was a cat last month doesn’t mean I’m a –”  

“You sure about that?What kind of man would dream something so stupid?A sword-swallower, that’s who.And you said it was some kitten that Qyburn had locked away in a cage besides.You didn’t dream you were something powerful like a dragon, a shark, or a bloodhound.No, only a scared, helpless little kitten will do for my brother.Pathetic.You should consider yourself fortunate that you mentioned your dream to me rather than one of our parents.Mother probably wouldn’t care about that sort of thing and would just tell you to stop bothering her, but Domeric…well…he’d cut off your head, most like.” 

“If you say even one word to –” 

“Why would I do that?Have you given me cause to wish you dead?” 

“Piss off,” whispered Randyll.  
  
“What was that?”  

“Nothing.” 

“That’s better,” Robar replied with all the smugness he could muster.“Now go find someone else to annoy.You’re boring me.”  

…

By the time the Crown Prince of The North changed out of his vomit-stained clothes and arrived at Winterfell’s Great Hall, there was no one there save for the servants who were busily cleaning up after the rest of his family.Robar sadly departed from the room without even bothering to ask that his supper be brought up to his chambers.  

_They could’ve waited for me…Uncle Ramsay would’ve waited if my parents would just let him sup with the rest of our family; I know he would!_ _Lord Bolton makes our whole family eat together whenever we have guests over…everyone except uncle Ramsay.Well…he also doesn't let uncle Rickon eat with us, but that’s different.And what happened to him was Randyll’s fault besides.Even if we’d all be better off without Lord Bolton, I suppose even that crotchety old jerk is bound to do something right every once in a while._ Robar looked down at the ground and his shoulders slouched the way they always did during his grandfather’s lethal silences.The worst thing about Lord Bolton was that you could feel his cold, cruel eyes watching you whenever you thought something bad about him even if the man himself was nowhere to be found. 

_That’s all I need today; why not piss off Lord Bolton too?It’s not like things can get any worse and it’d feel good to tell that miserable old man to burn in the deepest of the Seven Hells besides.He told Domeric rape my mother and…and…that’s bad enough! Never mind that Lord Bolton is always going out of his way to insult uncle Ramsay no matter how much the poor man does to better our House’s reputation.I bet the only reason the rest of The North fears House Bolton at all is because of uncle Ramsay.Who cares what Lord Bolton thinks anyway?Uncle Ramsay said fear is power and he’s always right…usually right…right about most things that have nothing to do with women…or hunting._ Robar shuddered. 

_I bet uncle Ramsay is only like that because he grew up around Lord Bolton and Domeric.It has to be their fault…somehow.He’s never been cruel to me…not unless I deserved it.No matter what he does to those poor women, he’s always been more of a father to me than Domeric.Uncle Ramsay always said I won’t be a real man until I’m strong enough to kill my so-called father.  I bet that deep down, he's also angry about what that evil raper did to my mother!Uncle Ramsay never sounds angry when talks about it, but why else would he want me to kill his own brother?I wish he’d let me try now instead of making me waiting until I’m 18.I can do it; I really can!I’m 13 years old; that means I’m a man grown and I should be allowed to prove that to everyone by getting revenge on Domeric.Mother and uncle Ramsay would both be proud of me and when I'm King, things are going to be different around here.I’ll send Lord Bolton to The Wall and I’ll be a good King too!   Since uncle Ramsay and Randyll hate each other and never agree on anything, I'll always hear both sides of every issue.  Domeric's a fool for making Lord Bolton Hand of The King.  A King needs two Hands who seldom agree; Randyll will be my right Hand and uncle Ramsay my left Hand.  When I’m king, I’m going to kick Royce in the balls as hard as I can.Let’s see how he likes it…  _

_Whatever uncle Ramsay may’ve done to those poor women, he’s still the father I should’ve had and he always will be!He hates Domeric near as much as I do and that’s what matters.I bet he doesn’t even enjoy those hunts.Uncle Ramsay’s just…good at pretending to like them...REALLY good at pretending…too good.Mayhaps he does enjoy it, but…but growing up with Domeric, it probably brought out the worst in him.It can’t have been easy living with someone like that; mother even said that uncle Rickon was like a completely different person before Domeric found them.  I bet Domeric told Randyll what to do so that our uncle would go mad and attack Nym.Domeric is always looking for new ways to hurt mother and…and…wasn’t raping her twice enough?What the Seven Hells is wrong with him?_

_Uncle Rickon’s become a vicious madman who wants to kill everyone in our House, so I’ll have to cut off his head once I become king, but I wish I could remember what he used to be like.   I hope mother isn't too wroth with me once get around to that...And uncle Ramsay said that she’d understand besides.Randyll might try to hurt me once I’ve killed Domeric.  I hope I don’t have to put him down too.Uncle Ramsay says that being a good King means hurting people and letting yourself enjoy it so they think you’re strong, but I don’t know if I want to be strong enough to enjoy being a kinslayer. Mayhaps Randyll will be reasonable…  I'd be fair to Randyll if he cooperated; uncle Ramsay deserves The Dreadfort after how everyone else in our House has treated him, but I'd make Ramsay give him The Hornwood.  If Randyll can't be made to see reason, then I guess I'll have to make Royce my second Hand instead.  That would be unfortunate...  _

_I don’t have to be just like uncle Ramsay as long as I make sure to heed his counsel.At least I’m sometimes able to convince him that we should split up during the hunts.That way, I can still tell the women the quickest way to get out of the woods if I find them before he does.I don’t think I should let him keep hunting people when I’m king.It feels…wrong._

Suddenly, the faint whisper of excited voices brought Robar’s train of thought to a screeching halt.The Crown Prince of The North spun around, but there was no one there.In truth, there weren’t even any doors nearby.  The crypt wasn't too far away, but these voices were coming from somewhere else…almost as though the walls were whispering to each other. _It was nothing, most like.  I’m probably just –_

“Can…do…again?”

“Wait…liked…GROSS!” 

“Yes…pleaaaase!” 

“…insane?NO!” 

“Fine.But…and…” 

“I…too!” 

“That...strange, but...” 

“But...is…Seven…is…all...about?” 

“Pleeeeeaaaase?  Just...time...” _What the Seven Hells is going on here?_  

“Shut…heard...thing!” 

“Who’s there,” shouted Robar.“Mother, is…is that you?Hello?Someone?Who-whoever you are, you'd better go away right now!Someday I’m going to be King of The North, so you’d better…umm...how about we both just go our separate ways and pretend this never happened?”At first, the Crown Prince of The North received no reply save for the occasional pitter-patter of tiny footsteps drawing closer and closer.Before long, however, he heard the faint sound of predatory laughter off in the distance as if whoever or whatever he’d heard could smell the sweaty scent of his fear and was using it to track him.Even now, Robar could feel cruel eyes watching him intently from somewhere in the darkness with the cold, hungry gaze from which nightmares are borne.The eyes – wherever they were – were watching…tracking…stalking…hunting him from afar, that much was certain. 

“Who...who’s there?  Show yourselves and I...umm...I’ll spare your lives.  Deal?  Stop laughing at me!”   Were Robar still a little boy, he would’ve simply screamed for his mother the moment these strange creatures of the night first gave him gooseflesh.Were he truly a man grown, mayhaps Robar would’ve simply shrugged off the chill creeping up his spine until it was too late.In truth, the Crown Prince of The North was both and neither at the same time .As a result, he could no more scream for help than he could ignore his shadowy tormentors.  

In the end, fear overcame pain as Robar realized who the voices likely belonged to and the Crown Prince of The North did the only thing he could do: he ran away as fast as his legs would carry him and prayed that the ghosts didn’t get him. _I’m not being craven; I’m just…using my survival instincts.I…I mean…the ghosts of Winterfell aren’t real!They can’t be!They don’t exist!That…that was just a story the servants made up to scare me and my siblings when we were little.The ghosts of all the dead Starks don’t haunt Winterfell , but…but…but why take a chance?If the stories were true then every Bolton living in Winterfell is cursed and…and they’re evil, vengeful ghosts who are always looking for children to kidnap for the Rat Cook’s next meal.   The crypts aren't too far away and everyone knows ghosts can’t get you when you’re hiding under a blanket besides.I just need to get to my bed and I’ll be safe!This…this is all some sort of bad dream and tomorrow it’ll be like it never even happened!  _

…

**Arya**

The Queen of The North cautiously made her way towards the secret room containing twelve cells which housed only the those highborn prisoners who would never be permitted to see the light of day ever again.However, they’d only held one person for the past two years and no matter how much he hated her, Arya always visited him every night without fail. _Rickon has to forgive me someday.Did he really think I’d just sit there and let him murder my daughter?Nymeria didn’t even do anything; she was just an innocent little girl.It was Randyll’s fault, not hers…not that I’d ever let Rickon kill him either, but at least that would’ve made more sense.Just because I wouldn’t let him hurt my children doesn’t mean I’m a Bolton instead of a Stark in any of the important ways…does it?I was still the one who sentenced him and I…I mean…I didn’t betray Rickon…not really.My children just…need me more than he does is all.And I’m the only reason he’s still alive besides.He’ll understand someday; I know he will!_ Arya bit her lip.  

_Rickon needs to convince me that it is safe to let him out, else Domeric or Robar will kill him whenever I die.  Lord Bolton might even have him murdered in his cell if he doesn't start making progress soon.No!Lord Bolton wouldn’t do that…not really.He just…said he was thinking about doing it because he was wroth with me is all.Lord Bolton promised…he promised a lot of things…_

“What do you want?Why can’t you just leave me alone?Is it really too much to ask that you let me rot in peace,” grumbled the youngest Stark.Rickon’s brown eyes burned with a hatred unlike anything Arya had ever seen before…one that seemed to grow stronger with each passing night. _Seven Hells, why do you have to be so stubborn about everything?Don’t you get that I’m trying to save you?I never wanted this anymore than you did!   Who cares whether I belong to House Stark or House Bolton?I’m still me and…and…he can’t really wish I was dead.There has to be a part of Rickon that still loves me at least a little bit.I forgave him for trying to kill my daughter, so why can’t he forgive me for doing whatever it takes to protect my children?  _

“Rickon, I –”  

“Don’t look so sad, Queen Leech, I know that I was wrong.”  

“Rickon, you’re my brother and I will always love you, but if you ever call me that again –” 

“But it’s such a perfect name for you.I mean, you’re a Queen and –”  

“We both know that I’ve never wanted to be one.”  

“Yeah, well, I never wanted to be locked away in a dungeon cell by my own sister either.I really do mean that, by the way.You’re my sister and nothing can ever change that…no matter how badly I wish you’d never been born.”The Lone Wolf wanted to say…something…anything, but in truth, she hadn’t the faintest idea of how to respond to her younger brother’s words.They hurt too much and Rickon plainly had no interest in listening to anything she said besides.  

“What was I saying?  Oh right, you’re also a leech…a Bolton…whatever you people call yourselves.  You’ve been leeching off a more powerful House ever since…WAIT!Come back!I changed my mind about your children.Don’t you want to hear?”  

“I’m listening,” seethed the Queen of The North.  

“I’ve had a lot of time to think in here and I’ve decided that it’s not your children’s fault that any of this happened.I won’t kill them if I ever get out of this cell.I’ll always hate them , but I swear on our parents' graves that I’ll never try to kill them.Just you…you weren’t born a Bolton, but you became one all the same.You knew what they were and abandoned your family anyway.HEY!  GET BACK HERE!I’m not done with you!Wait…don’t go…I…I didn’t mean it.Please, I…I never wanted to hurt you.” The Queen of The North looked over her shoulder just long enough to see her youngest brother’s anger give way to something new, if only for a moment.Rickon Stark’s eyes couldn’t have spoken louder if they had their own voice.The hateful man to whom Arya had been speaking for the past two years had disappeared leaving only a frightened little boy where he’d once stood. _Even if it is just a trick, I have to try…_ _Rickon was telling the truth when he said that he wouldn’t try to hurt any of my children; I can always tell when he’s lying.And Sansa was the only Stark who was ever any good at lying besides.   Rickon's wrong!  I’m still a Stark in all the important ways and I always will be; _ _I was just…forced to wed someone from a different House._

“It’s okay.I promise that I was telling the truth when I said I forgave you.”  

“I know.You’re just trying to help.I just…I have to blame somebody, don’t I?Sansa and you both married into Houses that have done terrible things and you each sided with your new family instead of The North so it’s easier to blame you then it is to admit that it’s my fault for not being able to save any of you.” _I can’t let him out yet, but he’s doing much better.Rickon has been acting strange lately and a few weeks ago, he said that he could hear voices talking to him, but that doesn’t mean he’s still dangerous._ Arya bit her lip.

_What if I’m wrong?What if…what if all this time locked up in a cell has made Rickon even worse?If leaving him here forever is the only way to protect my children, then maybe…NO!Rickon didn’t hear voices because he’s going mad.His mind was just…playing tricks on him is all.I can still save him!Maybe I can even try letting him out once Lady Barbrey’s visit is over.She should be here any day now, so as long as Rickon doesn’t do anything really bad, I’ll finally be able to let him out of this horrible place._

“Rickon, what the Boltons did to you, me, Bran, mother, Robb…what they did to everyone, I promise that none of it was your fault.Do you understand?I hate the Boltons just as much as you do and –”  

“Then why haven’t you tried to kill any of them?” 

“Because I love my children more than I could ever hate Lord Bolton, Domeric, Ramsay, or anyone else.I love them more than anything else in the world and I always will,” sighed Arya.“I can't risk not being around to make sure they grow up to be good people who will put other people's needs ahead of their own.  I’m sorry that I have to find a way to live with the monsters who butchered our family, but my children, they…they’re more important.”  

“Thank you, Arya.”  

“For what?”  

“For finally telling me why you betrayed my family.” 

“I did not betray OUR family!” 

“No one from House Stark is part of your family…not anymore.You’ve made your choice and now you get to live with it for the rest of your life, turncloak.” 

“Goodnight, Rickon,” growled the Queen of The North. 

“WAIT!DON’T GO!PLEASE!I…I take it back!  I don't want to be all alone tonight!”  

“Now what?” 

“I…I hear people whispering in the walls.Sometimes they even talk to me.It’s not good talking though; they…they say they’re going to get me one day.Even when they’re not talking to me, they oft tell me to do bad things…cruel things…evil things.Please, I’m scared and…and…I mean…don’t go.They only come out at night.I don’t want to be all alone with the voices!They’re going to make Winterfell an even worse place someday; you have to believe me!  It's getting really hard not to listen to them when I'm angry and –"  

“Seven Hells, how stupid do you think I am?” 

“Can’t we talk just a little longer?” 

“We can try again when I come back tomorrow evening.” 

“But…but I…COME BACK!”  

“No matter how much you hate me, you’ll always be my brother…but it’s not safe to let you out yet.”  
  
“Fine, abandon me just like you abandoned everyone else in our family!”  

“Goodnight, Rickon.”Arya bit her lip.The Queen of The North wanted to say more and knew that there had to be a way to make her brother see reason if she could only explain things to him the right way…but tonight, there were simply no more words to be said.  

“BURN IN HELL, QUEEN LEECH!”  


	5. Royce

“Why does great-aunt Barbrey have to visit us?Can’t she just stay in Barrowtown forever?I don’t want her to come here,” whined Royce as two generations of Boltons began neatly lining up in Winterfell’s courtyard. _I have to convince mother not to let that wrinkly old demon into Winterfell.Once father and old man Roose get here, it’ll be too late…_ “No one even wants to see that evil witch, right, Nym?”  

“Cold.Cold.Cold.Cold.Cold.Cold.Cold.Cold.” _Thanks, you’ve been very helpful.I’m sure that changed our mother's mind,_ Royce thought to himself bitterly, rolling his eyes at his sister.The second youngest Bolton froze with fear the moment he realized what he had just done.  _If_ _Nymeria saw me roll my eyes at her then…then she’ll…nevermind, she’s plainly too cold to pay attention to anything I say or do.And she probably wouldn’t even care besides.Nym always rolls her eyes at other people when she’s annoyed with them, but I still can’t risk making her wroth with me.If I do then it might interfere with our destiny and anyone who tries to do that will get hurt…really, really bad.I don’t know why father forced her to wear that dress when he let mother wear a winter cloak, britches, and whatever else she wanted.It’s snowing and he’s making Nym wear some ugly pink dress like it’s the middle of the summer._

_Wait a minute…did father do that because he wanted Nym to be cold and miserable and…and…I’m going to kill that bald bastard someday!I bet he knows how much Nym hates wearing pink, frilly dresses.I’m going to cut his throat from ear to ear or better yet, take him apart one piece at a time just like I do to Qyburn’s little white mice when I get angry.No, no, that’s hardly a fitting punishment for our kind and considerate father.I should cut open his belly just enough to make a hole that my hands can fit through, nail his entrails to a tree, and make him walk in circles until he’s got no more guts left.He better stop being mean to Nym right now or I’ll…focus!Bad Royce!I have to concentrate on keeping Beastly Barbrey from coming to my home and embarrassing me again like she did at Barrowtown._

“I know that you’ve never liked Lady Barbrey,” sighed Arya.“I don’t like her either, but since your father invited her to come and visit us, we might as well try to make the best of it.And House Dustin has been a…loyal friend to House Bolton besides.”For some reason, Arya looked as though calling House Dustin a “loyal friend to House Bolton” made her want to throw up, but it mattered not at all.“They helped us fight off the Iron Born when those water Wildlings tried to attack us from the west while we were fighting their allies in The Vale.I know you’ve read about the Iron Born raids.” 

“The Iron Born forced the Glovers to flee Deepwood Motte until the end of the war and they kidnapped every Mormont on Bear Island except for Lyanna during one raid although she only escaped because some servants found where she was hiding and smuggled her off the island.No one knows what happened to her sisters after that, but Lord Bolton once said that only reason the Mormonts have been so loyal is that Lyanna hates the Iron Born and the Vale vermin who supported them even more than she hates us,” added Randyll.  

“No one asked you,” snapped Arya. _He doesn’t deserve to be treated like that all the time…If Robar wasn’t such an idiot, he’d try to be nice to Randyll like I do.Old man Roose once said that if someone’s mother or father is always making them feel worthless, you can oft cheaply gain their loyalty just by being nice to them.He’s exaggerating, most like, but Randyll definitely tries to help me when he’s not too angry or sad to think straight because I try to be nice to him when he isn’t mean to Nym...as long as it doesn't cost me anything.And mother says it’s important for me and my siblings to look out for each other besides._

“I was just –”  

“I’m talking to your brother.When I want you to say something, I’ll tell you.Do you understand?”Randyll winced as though he’d just felt the sharp, stinging pain of bullwhip ripping away a piece of flesh from his back, but his mother’s words had plainly hurt him more than a thousand lashes ever could.Arya plainly noticed it too because she bit her lip, but Royce knew that their mother wouldn’t apologize to Randyll no matter how badly she felt about the way she treated him.

_Randyll doesn’t have to die when I become King, but Robar will have to go and that's final!That big jerk wouldn’t even let Nym be Lord of Winterfell, most like.Who cares if she’s of the wrong sex to be a Lord anyway?She’d be the best Lord of Winterfell there ever was and she…wait a minute…Seven Hells!There’s no way Nym will do anything like what what she did last night while that wrinkly witch is at Winterfell.THAT DOES IT!THAT IS THE LAST STRAW!Beastly Barbrey is not welcome here and that’s final!Aaaaarrrrrggggh!Why does she always have to ruin everything for me?Focus!How can I get rid of her?_

“But…but mother, I’m scared that Lady Barbrey might try to hurt me and…umm…I mean…nevermind.” _She’s not buying this…_  

“I know you’re really upset right now so I’m going to pretend you didn’t just try to lie to me about someone hurting you, but don't EVER do that again."

"Yes, mother."  

"Lady Barbrey always tries to make me lose my temper whenever she’s at Winterfell and she helped take you away from me when you were little besides.  I’m also wroth with her for giving your father an excuse to torture Nym by making her dress like that during a summer snow.  I wish we never had to see your great-aunt ever again, but I can’t do anything about it either.  It won’t be that bad though…not really.  Lady Barbrey will just…be a bit frustrating is all.  She’ll only be here for a few days, so do you think you can hang in there for me until your great-aunt leaves?” 

“I guess so,” sighed the second youngest Bolton.

“Cold.Cold.Cold.Cold.Cold.Cold.”Royce glanced at his younger sister and found that for some reason he suddenly didn’t feel near as upset about Lady Barbrey’s imminent arrival. _BAD THOUGHT!Stop thinking about it!She’s my sister and what happened last night was bad enough besides…even if it felt really good.I shouldn’t want…well…it won’t matter when I’m king.A king can do whatever he wants and we…I…I mean…Nymeria said it was just…like a game.An experiment!That’s it!It was just an experimen!Experiments aren’t bad, you just…can’t always tell people about them._

_I mean…I guess Nym’s right that we need to be careful, but it was her idea!And she shouldn’t have yelled at me afterwards for saying I really liked it besides.How was I supposed to know what would happen?It’s not my fault it was gross!Maybe she’s alsoseen servants do other things when they thought no one was around that we could…STOP HAVING BAD THOUGHTS!Can’t Beastly Barbrey just hurry up and get here already so I can stop thinking about this?I should be eating my supper right now, not standing here thinking about yucky things while waiting for some evil old witch to…wait a minute…why did I just give Nym my winter cloak?Seven Hells, now we’re both freezing,_ Royce silently seethed as his teeth began chattering uncontrollably.For her part, the youngest Bolton appeared to be as cold as ever even with her brother’s cloak wrapped around her like a blanket.

“Th-th-thank you, Roy-Royce.” _Wait…but…but I didn’t even mean to do that!_

“You’re…welcome.” _That was all wrong; I meant to ask for my cloak back!No matter how much Nym’s always protected me, I’m not going to just do whatever she…or…I mean…I’m not some stupid dog and…and I…I just…nevermind._ For some reason getting his cloak back no longer seemed half so important to Royce once he noticed that his sister was holding his right hand.Suddenly, Randyll gave his younger brother a sharp whack in the back of the head. 

“OWWWW!HEY!What was that for?”  

“Not in public,” muttered Randyll.While the look the second oldest Bolton was giving his younger siblings was plainly one of disgust, there was something else there too.It was buried so deep beneath the contempt and repulsion, but it was there all the same. _He's worried about what will happen to us if someone finds out_ , Royce realized. _How does he even know anyway?_

“Randyll Bolton, apologize to your brother right this minute!"  Nym jerked her hand away as her eyes grew wide with terror; it was plain that she wanted nothing half so much as to run out of the courtyard as fast as her legs would carry her. _Wait…is Nym embarrassed?No, she…she’s probably just scared, most like.Girls are weird!_

“Shit!I mean…nevermind.  I'm sorry for hitting Royce, mother.  I just…I…I think you should send Nym to Barrow–” 

“Are you insane?I’m not letting Barbrey Dustin steal away any of your siblings ever again, especially not after how she treated Royce.And if I was going to saddle her with you, I’d have done it a long time ago,” muttered Arya. _Why does Nym look so nervous?Who even cares if Randyll gets hurt anyway, he’s just our brother and he might tell on us besides.That means he could be an enemy!I’ll still try to be nice to him, but only because he could be dangerous.He’ll have to go too when I become king!No, Nym would want me to give him one last chance...even if she hates him.  And I don’t really want to kill any of my kin except for Robar and father besides.Robar hurt Nymeria so he doesn’t get any second chances no matter what!I guess I don’t have to kill Randyll, but he’d better stop being such a miserable little shit.And if he EVER scares Nym like that again…_

“Why do you hate me?”Arya bit her lip and the second youngest Bolton tilted his head in confusion. _Why does mother look so upset?Doesn’t she hate him?  I know I do!_ In truth, Royce wouldn’t have been surprised if his mother started crying.She’d certainly never looked at Randyll like that before…even if it only lasted half a second.  

“I don’t hate you.I...I could never –” 

“Liar!”  


“Even if you’re sometimes a disappointment, you’ll always be my son no matter what, but please don’t hit Royce again.He’s your brother; the two of you should be looking after each other, not fighting.” _But...but I wanted to see Randyll get in trouble.  Seven Hells, this day just keeps getting worse and worse!_

“How am I a disappointment?What did I ever do to you?”  

“I didn’t mean…just apologize to your brother.”It every ounce of the second youngest Bolton’s self-restraint not to breath an audible sigh of relief although Nymeria still looked really scared for some reason. _What’s she worried about?Who cares if Randyll knows?Mother won’t believe him even if he tattles on us!   I hope he spends the rest of his life with a hole in his heart because he thinks our mother wishes he was never born.  Serves him right for upsetting Nym! _

“I’m sorry,” muttered Randyll.  

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to –”

“You should be apologizing to your son, I think,” said a voice that was somehow both as soft as a whisper and as cold as steel.Even if he hadn’t noticed his grandfather approaching, Domeric and Robar in tow, Royce still would’ve known it was old man Roose speaking and not his father…no matter how similar their voices sounded.If it had been Domeric, Arya would’ve never let such an interruption go unanswered.All the color drained from Royce’s face as he watched his mother instinctively look down at the ground in shame.In truth, the second youngest Bolton had always been fascinated by the strange power his grandfather seemed to hold over both of his parents.No matter what old man Roose did to them or how they felt, he could always make either of them wilt like a dead plant with a single look and they both seemed to have some sort of strange need for his approval.It was more than a little pathetic although Royce oft found himself wishing that he could have such an effect upon his older brothers.  

_Old man Roose might believe Randyll and…and mother would believe him, most like.She doesn’t hate him like she hates father.No matter how much mother pretends to wish old man Roose was dead, I think a part of her would miss him if he died.Mother, she…she wouldn’t let him kill me or Nym and she’d never even think about letting anyone hurt either of us either.But what if…would she do it herself if she knew?What if she sentenced me to death like that evil servant or locked Nymeria away forever like uncle Rickon?_ The second youngest Bolton bit his lip so hard that it bled like a freshly butchered hog, but fortunately, it didn’t take his mother long to remember how much she was supposed to hate her good-father. 

“What took you so long?Where was Robar?”  

“Hiding under his bed,” grumbled Domeric. _Old man Roose found Robar hiding under a bed?Serves that dumb giant right for hurting Nymeria yesterday!   I wonder if I can bribe one of the servants to spread a rumor that Robar is a bastard since he's so big and mother is only 5'2; people might believe that he has some giant blood in him.  I still don’t understand why Nym wouldn’t let me kill him.I bet mother wouldn’t be upset if we threw his body out a window so she thought Robar killed himself.Then again, mother does get all weird about not hurting one’s kin and she’s always trying to make sure I know it’s wrong to kill people for no reason even though she stopped reminding Nym, Robar, and Randyll of that years ago.I want to make mother happy, but it doesn’t make any sense not to kill your kin if they really deserve it just because they have the same blood.Maybe Nym just meant it was a bad time to kill Robar; that has to be it!  _

“What?Why?Is he okay?”  

“I’m not lying, father!Thirteen rats came into my chambers last night one at a time, crawled up to me, looked right at me, and then began turning their heads all the way around until their necks snapped.I don’t know what happened to their bodies, but –” _That’s weird, I had a dream that I was a bunch of rats who did that last night only when I was the fourteenth rat, I started dragging away the bodies of the other rats and hiding them._

“Robar, you just had a nightmare,” sighed Arya. 

“No, I didn’t, I –”  

“Listen, I promise that we’ll talk about it later, but Lady Barbrey will be here any minute and –” 

“And you will be silent.So will Prince Robar, I think.Until the fool comes of age, it matters not at all whether or not the first of my grandchildren to be inflicted upon our House is a craven so long as he acts dignified when in the company of those other than his own kin.” 

“I’m not a craven!” _I don’t care if you’re a craven or not!You’re always picking on me and you threw Nym into a wall yesterday besides.Anyone in our House who hurts her will simply have to go when I’m king and that’s final!_ The patriarch of House Bolton silenced his eldest grandson with a single look, as was his custom.In truth, the expression on his grandfather's face frightened the second youngest Bolton so much that he almost soiled himself the moment he saw it, albeit for reasons that had nothing to do with any sort of concern for his eldest brother’s safety. _Mother looks at me that way in my night terrors right before she executes me.That was how she looked at the servant who tried to poison us during his trial…right before she was sentenced him to death._  

“In time, I fear you will require a few adjustments.Such is the price of being heir to –” 

“No,” Domeric meekly muttered.  

“What was that, Your Grace?I could’ve sworn I just heard you say that you need further adjustments as well.” 

“No, I didn’t say any…I mean…I said ‘no!’You can’t make adjustments to any of my children.”The King of The North glanced at his wife who nodded approvingly as all four of their now wide-eyed children’s mouths hung open in shock.For his part, the Lord of The Dreadfort simply yawned. 

“Are you quite certain of that?”  

“Yes, I am.We decided –” 

“You presume to decide things for me?” _What’s going on?Maybe father is trying to get himself killed.I sure hope that old man Roose kills him; he deserves to die for being such jerk to Nymeria yesterday!_

“You will not harm my children.I for-forbid you to...umm...make any adjustments to Robar, Randyll, Royce, or even Nymeria…however useless she may be.I fear all men owe their children certain things, protection among them.And even a little girl is not property until she has been wed to a suit-suitable owner.” 

“For the last time, I’m not your property!” _I knew there was no way my parents would be able to agree on anything for more than a few seconds._ “I’m a person and you can’t own –”  

“Yes, yes, yes, you’re not my property and I have a full head of hair.It matters not at all.There will be no adjustments to any of our children while they are living in Winterfell.”  

“Enough.I will ask you one more time, Your Grace: Are you allowed to tell me ‘no?’Did you truly believe I was going to let you ruin your heir by sparing him the adjustments necessary to turn him into the man you should have been?” _What’s he talking about?_

“What adjustments,” blurted Robar, scratching his head.  

“You needn’t concern yourself with such matters at this time, I think.You’d do well to follow the example of your siblings and keep your thoughts to yourself,” replied old man Roose.  

“Yes, my Lord,” mumbled the heir to The North. 

“Good.Now then, I believe I asked our beloved King a question.”  

“Do I have to say it, father?”  

“Humiliation should be the least of your concerns, I think.” 

“But even Arya agreed that because I’m king –”  

“Have you forgotten your mother already?”Royce rolled his eyes in disgust as he watched his father crumple like wet paper.  

"Wait, please don't...don't be wroth with me, father.  I'd never tell you 'no' and...and...it was all Arya's idea!I...I just listened and waited for her to stop babbling about the importance of protecting our...our children,” stammered the King of The North, looking down at the ground as he spoke.  

“Seven Hells, you agreed…it doesn’t matter how craven you are; if your father ever tries to harm a single hair on Robar's head then I'll kill him myself.”  

“Given Randyll’s prior outburst, I presume your children know some version of the events which transpired at The Twins.Do they know about your own role?Shall we pass down from one generation to the next the tale of how you brought about the death of your own mother?Do they know precisely how it was that you managed to fail each and every person in your former House when they needed you most,” asked the Lord of The Dreadfort.Arya bit her lip and glanced nervously at her children, but the Queen of The North held her ground…although she’d stopped looking her good-father in the eye. 

“What do you mean?Did…did she…did my mother really get her own mother killed,” asked Royce. _That would be interesting, but I’m not sure why I should care about some dead old woman._

“Among others, yes.Would you like to know how?”Royce watched as his mother, who oft seemed to tower over so many at Winterfell despite being only five feet tall herself,seemed to grow smaller and smaller with old man Roose’s every word.Before long, she wasn’t Royce’s mother anymore…just some frightened little girl with sad, gray eyes who’d never known anything other than self-loathing. _Whatever she did must have been really bad.I'd do something to try to cheer her up, but then old man Roose might be mean to me instead._ _Is she biting her lip so that we don’t hear her cry?  Her eyes look really watery.   I don’t want old man Roose to make my mother cry, but if he has to do it to someone, then I’d rather it be mother than me… _

“I'm not afraid of you, so you'd better leave my mother alone right now!I hope you choke to death on your own bloody vomit,” shouted Nymeria.  

“Are you insane?I mean…I’m sorry, I…I’ll shut up now,” mumbled Royce.In truth, it was the only thing he could think to say when he saw the fiery rage, disgust, and barely concealed contempt upon his sister’s face when she turned to reply to him.The second youngest Bolton’s last minute course-correction had plainly worked since his sister simply rolled her eyes rather than actually criticizing him.  

“I’m going to be Lord of Winterfell someday, Lord Bolton, so you should just take your dumb bastard and go back to your stupid Dreadfort where someone might actually want the two of you around.”Without another word, the youngest Bolton proceeded to throw a snowball at her grandfather’s face.  

“Err…m’Lord, Lady Dustin has arrived,” blurted Skinner.  _When did he get_ _here?_

“Very well.We shall speak no more of this until after Lady Dustin’s departure, but I assure the six of you that I have taken note of all of your behavior.”  Without another word, the Lord of The Dreadfort began to make his way toward the front of the courtyard.  

“Hey, get back here!You can’t talk to our mother like that!Father’s one thing, but not our mother!Right, Royce?Royce?ROYCE?” _Seven Hells, couldn’t you have just left me out of it?_

“Oh…umm…right.You…you can’t talk to our mother like that,” mumbled Royce. _Why can’t I ever tell her ‘no?’I’m a Bolton of Winterfell, not a whipped dog and…and…Nym needs my help!She’s always been there for me and I’ll always be there for her!I…I chose to do what she told me all by myself._

“Royce, Nym, thank you, but I need you both to stop talking to your grandfather that way right now!” 

“But I was only trying to –”  

“Please, Nymeria!” 

“Yes, mother,” sighed the youngest Bolton. 

“Lord Bolton,” mumbled Arya, never once taking her eyes off the ground.  

“Yes?”  

“I…I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean…whatever you’re thinking about doing to Nymeria…don’t do it or…do it to me, not her.Just…just punish me instead…please,” Arya begged.  

“I fully intend to,” replied the Lord of The Dreadfort in a flat, emotionless voice that the second youngest Bolton had never expected to hear again except in his nightmares.  


	6. Arya

The worst part of Barbrey Dustin’s visits had both nothing and everything to do with the Lady of Barrowtown herself.Just being in the same room as that hateful woman was near unbearable even on the best of days…and Lady Barbrey never seemed to come to Winterfell on a good day.Many years ago, Lord Bolton made it clear to both the Lady of Barrowtown and the Queen of The North that the former would be permitted to say whatever she pleased to the latter provided she only did so at Winterfell and in private.Naturally, Lady Dustin always had much and more to say about her least favorite relative, but it was also Lord Bolton’s fault for letting her talk the way she did.Of course, Domeric was never any help since he wouldn’t hear a bad word about one of the only two people who ever seemed to want him around.And so it was that Lady Dustin’s biannual trips to Winterfell became one of Arya Bolton’s least favorite times of the year. 

_What did I ever do to Lady Dustin anyway?  How can she hate me this much just for being born a Stark,_ Arya silently fumed as her kin began taking their seats in Winterfell’s Great Hall. _She should thank The Old Gods for making Domeric King instead of Lord Snow; the bastard would spend months flaying her to death after everything she’s said about him, most like._ _You can’t kill someone just because you don’t like them.  And only an idiot would do that to their subjects besides.  That’s probably why Ramsay thinks we should just flay all the Umbers and hang their skinless corpses from the outer walls of Last Hearth._

_I hate that House of traitors more than that monster ever could, but we can’t just kill all of them without some sort of "proof" that the other lords would believe.  Lyanna Mormont warned me about how Lord Umber once told her that he wished he could open the throat of every member of House Bolton.  That one-eyed traitor is lucky Lyanna made me promise not to have him punished for what he said so that the other lords don’t figure out that she tells me what they say about my children and me.  Maybe Ramsay could get Lord Umber drunk enough to attack Domeric the next time that one-eyed rat visits Winterfell; it would be safe to execute him then and we were able to kill Whoresbane that way besides._

The only lord worse than Lord Umber was Arnolf Karstark.  The Lord of Karhold was a warped, greedy two-legged weasel of a man whose short-sighted and transparent opportunism disgusted even the Lord of The Dreadfort.  In truth, the man reminded the Queen of The North of the late Walder Frey.  Lord Karstark would've gladly bent the knee to a monster like Lord Snow – mayhaps even to a foreign invader like the late Euron Greyjoy – if he thought there was even a single copper to be gained from doing so.  _Why can't we ever need the help of a lord who I don't hate?  Lord Bolton was wrong though, they don't all hate us...or at least, they don't all hate me.  Most of the Northern Lords don't even seem to mind Domeric near as much as they do the idea of being ruled by a member of House Bolton.  They definitely hate Ramsay though and I don't think anyone actually likes Lord Bolton, not even the lords who support him._    _At least most of the lords think Domeric listens to me…_

In truth, the idea that the King and Queen of The North were happily married was little more than a sick joke, but after a few years, it became plain to Arya that the day might come when she – and more importantly her children – would need the loyalty of some of Domeric’s bannermen.The Dustins, Ryswells, Cerwyns, and most of the men who served House Bolton were loyal to Domeric and Lord Bolton, but that was something else entirely.  Lord Karstark's "loyalty" was always available to the highest bidder, but the Queen of The North had no interest in allying with lying lickspittles.What Arya needed were bannermen who were loyal to her alone and the type of loyalty she wanted wasn’t the kind you could get using fear besides.However, most of the other lords knew how much the Lady of Bear Island hated Lord Bolton, so the Tallharts, Glovers, and Manderlys – who also controlled House Flint, Woolfield, and Locke – believed Lyanna’s claims about the Queen of The North’s sympathies and supposed moderating influence over her husband.After all, the Lady of Bear Island was the only one of Domeric’s bannermen who’d actually lived at Winterfell for a significant period of time.  

_Lyanna never forgot about how I let her stay at Winterfell and tried to be like an older sister to her after the Iron Born kidnapped her entire family during the war with The Vale.No matter how much she hates the rest of my House, she’s always been loyal to me ever since.It’s not the fake kind of “loyalty” the Karstarks and Manderlys gave to my House either.Lord Arnolf is just a craven lickspittle who wants us to give him Last Hearth if the Umbers ever rebel and Lord Manderly only pretends not to hate me because he thinks he might be able to use me to control Domeric someday.Lyanna’s my friend and she’s worth more than every other lord combined.I can trust her, at least with most things.She hated being called a lady too._

_I wish we didn’t have to lock Rickon in a hidden cell for all those years while she stayed at Winterfell during the war, but at least I was able to convince Lord Bolton not to kill him.And there’s no reason for Rickon to be wroth with me about that either…not really.I didn’t want to throw him in some dark cell until the Iron Born left Bear Island, but the fewer Houses that hate us, the safer it will be for my children.Even Lord Bolton agreed that taking Lyanna in when she had nowhere to go could be a good opportunity to gain House Mormont’s loyalty.I was just…putting my children first is all.And it was the right thing to do besides.Rickon will understand...someday.I wish he’d stop acting like The North rebelling would be a good thing though..._

_No one wants a civil war right now except the Umbers, but if we kill them without any actual proof of treason then the other Northern Houses will rebel just because they’re afraid their Houses might be next.They’d kill all of my children if that happened!And Lord Bolton said that it’s important to be able to work with people you don’t like besides,_ Arya reminded herself, as she took her seat and glanced at the Lady of Barrowtown. 

“You’ve not said a word to Lady Dustin since she arrived.  This will not serve.It is quite rude and I fear I never could abide rudeness,” said Domeric. _Not talking to your evil aunt and trying to distract myself by thinking about other things so I don’t get in another argument with her is rude?You can’t be serious.I wanted to be civil, but it’s not like anything good will ever come from me talking to that woman.Forget good things, has it ever ended in anything other than everyone getting wroth with each other?_

“I am truly sorry if was being rude in any way,” Arya replied, forcing herself to give her good-aunt the best fake smile she could muster.“I assure you that it was not at all my intention to be rude nor to ignore –” 

“No need to apologize, dear.After all, what sense is there in apologizing for your latest display after all the hateful things you’ve already said to me over the years?And why are you only apologizing to me?What of your lord husband?Where is his apology?Hasn’t he suffered enough at your hands?” _I was forced to marry that monster because his father murdered my mother and eldest brother after tricking me into thinking my mother didn’t love me anymore.Your nephew raped me twice, you stupid…no, I’m not going to let that evil old witch get a reaction out of me.She’s just trying to make me lose my temper like I did last time and…well…every time she’s visited Winterfell._ Arya glanced at her good-father and frowned when it became plain that he had no intention of intervening. _You’re enjoying this aren’t you?It doesn’t matter; I’m not going to give you another excuse to punish me by hurting Rickon._

“Why don’t we talk about something else,” the Queen of The North replied with false cheer.Arya forced herself to offer yet another conciliatory smile although this one was so fake that it might as well have been painted on the face of an angry bloodhound.  

“Fine.Frankly, I don’t know how anyone could abide such a hateful child, but my nephew was always nothing if not an understanding man.I always said that even when he was just a little boy.”  

“The proper term would be ‘hateful woman’ since she’s well past the age of 13,” Domeric added.  

“I suppose you’re right.In any case, at least our beloved Wolf Queen has been of some use.One has to give some credit to anyone who could survive giving birth to four children, three of them triplets.Then again, how much could that have possibly hurt?” _Burn in Hell!_ “You shouldn’t grind your teeth, dear.You’ll wear them down to ugly little white nubs.”  
  
“Thank...you…for…your…wise…counsel…Lady…Dustin,” Arya seethed.For her part, the Lady of Barrowtown simply ignored her good-niece and continued speaking to her nephew as though no one had said anything. 

“Did you really manage to lose a horse race to her, Your Grace?I’ve heard rumors, but –” 

“I’ve beaten him four times and he’s never beaten me, not even once!” 

“Is that so, Cersei?Do you always wear men’s clothes to dinner or only when you are expecting company?”  
  
“That’s not my name!”By now, the Queen of The North needed all of her self-restraint just to keep from stabbing the table in frustration. _Stay calm.Stay calm.Must…stay…calm._ _Domeric’s bannermen have to think I’m the calmest person in our House._

“Forgive me, Your Grace, I meant no offense; it’s just that most women are more than five feet tall.It’s a wonder Robar was even able to get out considering how big he turned out to be, but life is full of unexplained mysteries.I suppose you’re just so short that I sometimes assume you must be a child.And your daughter looks old for her age besides.”  

“So do you, Lady Dustin,” replied Nymeria in an overly innocent voice oft reserved for little girls attempting to disguise their worst insults as compliments.Domeric shot his daughter a death glare, but Arya made sure to chuckle audibly, lest Nym get discouraged by her father’s reaction. _Just because I have to pretend to be nice to the Beast of Barrowtown doesn’t mean that Nymeria has to…_

“Apologies, little one, I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch that.”  

“That’s okay, I bet you’re just losing your hearing because of how old you are,” replied the youngest Bolton.  

“That was extremely rude of you,” growled Domeric.“You will apologize to Lady Dustin immediately.” 

“I’m sorry, Lady Dustin; I certainly wouldn't want to be rude to you.  What I meant to say was that you look younger every time you visit Winterfell.  Even now you don’t look a day over ninety.”  

“You’re off by about 25 years, dear.” 

“You’re 115?Do you remember the Others, my lady,” asked Royce.Domeric would’ve intervened more forcefully by now, most like, were it not for the fact that he was apparently far too busy withering in the face of his father's silent stares. _He’s only wroth with you because you’re not doing anything to make them stop insulting Lady Dustin.If you’d just say something instead of cowering like a whipped dog whenever Lord Bolton looks at you that way, he wouldn’t be so disappointed in you._

“No, don’t be silly, little lord.I suppose the years haven’t been as kind to me as those lickspittles at Barrow Hall say.In truth, my hearing isn't what it once was, but I fear that time takes its toll…even upon the best of us.Oh well, enough about me, don’t you think?  Tell me, Domeric, is my dear grand-nephew’s favorite color still yellow?”  

The moment those words left the hateful old woman’s mouth, several strange things happened.The worst of these was the way Royce reacted.However, it wasn’t the way he started repeatedly swearing to Nym that whatever Lady Dustin was about to say was a lie that worried Arya; it was the fact that Royce’s knife had somehow disappeared from the table… 

“Mother, may I go use the privy,” asked Royce, already getting up from his chair. _Was he…I mean…Royce would never actually try to stab someone…not really.He just…needs to use the privy is all.   He...he learned his lesson after what he did to that cat._Arya bit her lip and prayed that this was all some sort of horrible misunderstanding. 

“ROYCE, SIT!” _Seven Hells, now I really will need to have a talk with them about this.I was hoping that was just a one time thing.Nym shouldn’t be talking to any of her kin that way, it’s…wrong._

“You don’t need your sister’s permission to use the privy,” grunted the King of The North.Robar rolled his eyes in disgust, but continued to refrain from commenting in any way about the behavior of his kin.  

“Actually, father, I…umm…don’t think I have to use...use the...err...privy after...after all,” stammered Royce.Without another word, the second youngest Bolton hopped right back into his chair.Randyll looked as though he was struggling not to throw up for some reason. _I don’t know what your problem is, but you’d better keep that food down!_

Ordinarily, Arya would’ve chided her second eldest son for not excusing himself if he was feeling sick, but that didn’t matter right now.What did matter was that her youngest son’s knife had somehow found its way back onto the table. _He probably just dropped his knife and then picked it back up._   _That...that has to be it!_   _In another year or so, I bet Royce won’t want to hurt people even when he’s too angry to think clearly.I just…have to explain things to him the right way is all.Maybe Royce didn’t do it because he remembered that it’s wrong to hurt people just because they’re annoying him; he'd never try to kill someone unless he had no other choice...not really._ Arya glanced at the Lord of The Dreadfort and bit her lip.Although he didn’t seem to have noticed the knife, for some reason Lord Bolton was watching Robar like a hawk about to snatch some hapless mouse off the ground.  

Arya had known her good-father long enough to know that it didn’t matter that Robar had been civil, silent, and well-behaved ever since the Beast of Barrowtown arrived.That look meant one thing…well…there was a time when it meant Lord Bolton was going to give you to Qyburn, but now it simply meant that he was going to hurt you somehow. _What could Robar have possibly done wrong?_

Before Arya could even attempt to answer her own question, Nymeria – having evidently decided that her mother didn’t have enough to worry already – promptly went from insulting her great-aunt to looking the old woman directly in the eye and speaking in a tone the Queen of The North had hoped she’d never hear any of her children use. 

“I don’t know why your question made my brother so scared or what he thought you were going to tell everyone that he’d done, but you will not do that to him again.This is your first and final warning,” said the youngest Bolton in a voice as flat as a wooden board...a voice identical to the one occasionally used when she needed to frighten Domeric or was sentencing a prisoner to death. _Stop talking like that!You weren’t supposed to be…broken like me.   In never wanted any of this for you.  I always wanted you to have a happy childhood.Nym knows I’ll always love her no matter what and she really believes that she can do anything she wants, so at least I did some things right…  _

For some reason, Royce bit his lip so hard that it began to bleed and began frantically scooting his chair forward until he was so close to the table that he was pressed right up against the tablecloth.Randyll punched his younger brother in the shoulder and the Queen of The North made a mental note to punish her second eldest son once everyone calmed down. _Of course, when Randyll does something wrong no one ever says anything.Hasn’t he been spoiled badly enough already?_

“Quite a fierce little thing, aren’t we; do you always speak to guests that way,” asked Lady Dustin. 

“Only the ones I don’t like,” the youngest Bolton cheerfully replied. _Seven Hells, is this what mother meant when she used to say that she hoped I had a daughter who was as honest about her thoughts as I was?At least I used to think before I spoke to people I didn't like when I was little…usually…sometimes…I mean…I’m sure I tried to every once in a while._

“I fear the girl has inherited her mother’s tongue.”  

“Thank you, father.”  

“It was not a compliment.”  

“Yes, it was!”  
  
“It was not intended as one.”  

“Well, that’s your problem.And mother said I don’t need to worry about what you think of me besides.”  

“It matters not at all what you think you need to worry about so long as you understand that all you will ever be is –” 

“Liar,” snapped the youngest Bolton.  

“Seven Hells, can we please just make it through one meal without everyone losing their bloody minds?We’re supposed to be a family!Surely you can all pretend not to hate each other and be civil for one whole meal.Is that really too much to ask,” groaned Robar.  

“One word from your mother and you suddenly believe that you may speak to me however you please, is that the way of it,” asked the King of The North.

“Yes," Nym proudly exclaimed.  "I’m going to be Lord of Winterfell someday and my brothers will be too.That means that Lady Dustin had better mind her tongue the next time she's thinks its safe for her to say bad things about my mother just because you and Lord Bolton gave her permission.”  

“Enough.You will be silent,” growled the Lord of The Dreadfort. 

“Fine.But you don’t scare me!”  

“Nymeria Bolton!I told you not to speak to your grandfather like that!” 

“What about me,” whined Domeric. _Who cares how she talks to you?_

“Oh…umm…right, I guess she probably shouldn’t speak to you that way either when we have guests or something.Anyway –” 

“But mother, I –”  

“No ‘buts!’I want you to march straight to your chambers right now.We’ll discuss this later, do you understand?” _This is for your own safety!I can’t risk you giving Lord Bolton any more of an excuse to hurt you._

“But you said that he might –”  

“NOW!” _Do you have any idea what Lord Bolton would do to Rickon if he found out that I said he looked like he’d be dead within five years?  And what if he decided to hurt you?  Did you ever think about that, Nym?  I...I'd die if anything ever happened to you._

“Fine, I’ll leave.Don’t worry, mother, I know you’re only doing this because you’re afraid of Lord Bolton.Royce and I can protect you from him because he doesn’t scare us, right, Royce?” 

“Umm…right,” mumbled Royce, never taking his eyes off the tablecloth.  Nymeria smiled at her youngest brother and left the room without another word.  

“I apologize for my son’s failure to control his children, my Lady,” said Lord Bolton even as his eyes remained fixed upon Robar.  

“Oh that’s quite alright, my Lord.Your son is simply a kind soul in a cruel world.” _Seven Hells!_ “And it’s the mother who is the problem besides.It’s all too plain that she’s failed to properly raise those poor children.” _I’m sitting right here!_

“Why don’t you piss off and go find your own cunt children to raise?  Oh right, you don't have any.  I bet –”   

“Not another word, Randyll,” snapped Arya as Robar buried his head in his hands and Royce quickly got up from his chair and raced out of the room as fast as his legs would carry him.  

“But mother, I was just trying to –”  

“I can take care of myself.Why would anyone ever want your help anyway?”  

“I only thought –”  

“If you were thinking then you’d have kept your mouth shut because you’d know I don’t want to hear whatever it is you have to say.”  

“But –”  

“Shut up!”  

“Yes, mother,” sighed Randyll as he quietly made his way out of the room.  

“Domeric, leave us,” ordered the Lord of The Dreadfort.“The rest of us have important business to discuss and I fear that seeking your input would only be a waste of everyone’s time.” _Why is he only kicking Domeric out?What about Robar and me?Wait a minute…that sounds like how I was talking to Randyll.Did I learn that from Lord Bolton?  NO!No!No!No!No!No!No!No!I…I’m so sorry, Randyll!I didn’t mean it…not really.Please, don’t hate me!I…I’ll do better from now on, you’ll see!_

“I’m the King of The North!How could asking my opinion possibly be a waste of my time?” 

“I love you near as much as your mother did, Domeric, but you are no king,” replied the Lady of Barrowtown.“And yet a king you must be and so a king you shall be…but only in name.Mayhaps someday you’ll be ready to participate in such discussions as the one we’re about to have, but today is most certainly not that day.”  

“But I –”  

“What Lady Dustin is trying to say is that your wife and Prince Robar have both shown enough maturity to warrant inclusion in my meetings with your aunt about how The North shall be governed.You have not.Now leave us.”

“Yes, father.”  

…. 

“Wait…what just happened,” asked Robar.  

“You and your kin were being tested…just as you were every other time Lady Dustin came to visit.I can assure you that I would not have tolerated your sister or your brothers' outbursts were it otherwise.However, your mother demonstrated that she has learned how to keep her emotions under control, albeit it barely, even in the face of constant provocation while under extreme stress.” _What?_

“What do you mean ‘barely,’” blurted Arya.  

“If I were you, I would consider myself fortunate that none of my children were going to be punished for their behavior this evening.”  

“Yes, my lord.I…I mean, thank you, my lord.” 

“Better.”  

“So Lady Dustin never really hated me,” asked the Queen of The North.  

“Don’t be ridiculous.In truth, the best thing that can be said of you is that you turned out better than your good-father’s bastard.Alas, one must needs work with the tools they are given, even rusty, broken-down things such as yourself.”  

“Enough.  Since Her Grace is no longer being tested, you will treat her with the respect she is due.Is that understood?” 

“Yes, my lord.Forgive me, Your Grace, I meant no disrespect.” _Liar!_   

“Am I the only person in this bloody House who has never played some sort of mind games with their own kin,” asked Robar, rubbing his forehead in frustration.  

“Probably.  Your House has long been known to play such ‘games’ with friend and foe alike.In any case, your self-control throughout the meal was truly remarkable.In truth, I’d always assumed you were mediocre in every way, but it seems safe to say that this was all just an act.Well done!”  

“You people are all out of your bloody minds!See, mother, this is why I always ask if I can eat with uncle Ramsay.I wasn’t playing some sort of mind game; I just wanted to sup in peace and quiet.If you all felt like arguing, I couldn’t stop you, but I wasn’t going to let it ruin my meal.”  

“Fine, have it your way, but you’re not fooling anyone,” replied Lady Dustin.  

“But I’m not lying!”  

“They’re not going to believe you, no matter what you say because it’d mean admitting they were wrong,” sighed Arya. 

“It matters not at all.You will be king one day and we must needs see to it that you learn how to rule a kingdom since my son will plainly never be up to the task.Now then, you are to cut all ties with my bastard immediately.Is that understood?”  
  
“Uncle Ramsay has been more of a father to me than your son ever was; I’m not disowning him just because you want me to!” 

“In that case, I fear you may require certain…adjustments,” replied Lord Bolton in a voice as soft as a whisper.  

“If you lay one hand on my son, I’ll –” 

“Calm yourself, Lady Arya,” ordered the Lady of Barrowtown.  

“I’m not a lady!” 

“You’ll hear no argument from me there, Your Grace.”  

“I have no intention of harming Prince Robar.  In truth, I won’t be doing anything to your son.You’re going to make the necessary adjustments to him this time,” added Lord Bolton.“Tell me, did you know that your son regularly chooses of his own volition to accompany Lord Snow when the bastard hunts young girls in nearby forests with his bloodhounds?I’ve heard the age is usually 12-15, but as I’ve never joined those fools, I fear that I cannot say for sure.I only know that he’s been willingly doing this for years and lied when he told you he’d only been on two hunts many years ago because Lord Snow forced him to do so.” 

“HE WHAT?”  

“Wait…umm…mother, the thing is…I mean…umm...it's like this...I just…what you have to understand is –” 

“DON’T!”The heir to The North seemed to grow smaller and smaller as he trembled in fear at the sight of the pure, undiluted rage rapidly spreading across his mother’s face.  

“I will deal with my son, Lord Bolton.You don’t need to worry about him going anywhere near that bast–” 

“You know how much he hates being called that!”  

“Don’t you DARE argue with me right now.  You're in enough trouble already...”  

“Yes, mother,” whimpered Robar.  

“Very well, we shall leave him in your supposedly capable hands,” added Lady Dustin as she followed Lord Bolton out of the Great Hall.  


	7. Arya | Bran

**Arya**

“Are you sure you’re ready,” asked Arya as she searched for the truth in her youngest brother’s eyes.For a moment, the real question – “Can I trust you not hurt me or my children?” – simply hung in the air like the bitter, rotting fruit of a dying tree. _You have to make me believe you’re telling the truth.Please, this is your last chance…_ The room grew so quiet that one could hear the pitter-patter of little white mice scampering across the floor in the underground cells where the most important Highborn prisoners were kept. 

Several years ago, Royce had discovered a series of underground tunnels beneath Winterfell’s crypt and Lord Bolton used these to build a series of hidden dungeons beneath a chamber in which dead Starks and Boltons now lay side-by-side, united in death just as their Houses had been in life on the worst day of a sad, lonely little girl’s life…a life that she would’ve ended herself many years ago had The Old Gods not given her four children whom she could still save.They were the only good things that had happened to the Queen of The North since the Red Wedding, but each of them was more than enough to make life worth living…even Randyll. 

_Maybe when this is all over, I’ll finally be able to be a mother to Randyll again.He shouldn’t have said that he’d heard Nymeria say she was glad my “dumb cunt of a mother" was murdered at the Red Wedding and hoped every single Frey took a turn raping her before she died.Even if Nym had said something like that about the Red Wedding – which she didn’t_ _–_ _Nym doesn’t talk that way.She’d never say the word “cunt,” for one thing.She hates when people use that word even more than I do...but Randyll’s smart enough to think of a better lie than that; it doesn’t make any sense!_

_Why would he even say something like that anyway?I have every right to be angry at that liar for what he did to my brother.It’s not my fault Randyll wouldn’t say anything whenever I asked him why he'd tell such a horrid lie about Nym.   Randyll started crying the last time I asked him, but he still wouldn’t say anything.If he really felt guilty about it then he should’ve apologized to everyone he hurt and offered to come with me whenever I went to visit my brother so he could see what his lies did to his uncle.His tears won’t fix Rickon though…  _

_It wasn’t all Randyll’hs fault…not really.How was he supposed to know that his lies would make Rickon try to murder Nymeria and me?And Randyll will always be my son besides.I have to find a way to forgive him for what he did to Rickon...someday._

That didn’t matter right now though, nothing did…nothing except deciding whether or not Rickon could be trusted with a second chance.The youngest son of Ned and Catelyn Stark had undergone a remarkable change in the week since Lady Dustin left Winterfell, the sort that might make it possible to finally give him some measure of freedom.It wasn’t that he had forgiven his sister; if anything, the hatred in his eyes that invariably flared up like an eruption of wildfire whenever he saw her now seemed to burn brighter than ever.However, Rickon’s anger seemed to have given way to a certain begrudging, world-weary acceptance of his circumstances…almost as though his spirit had finally been broken.  Mayhaps that was a good thing in some ways, but if so, then it was still a cold comfort to the Queen of The North all the same.  

_This cell is killing him.I did this to him,_ Arya realized, looking down at the ground in shame. _I didn’t know it would make him like this when I convinced Lord Bolton to leave him here instead of executing him.I really was trying to save him, but maybe he would’ve been better off if Lord Bolton had simply given him a clean death.  He could've still died as himself instead of...like this.I hope Rickon can handle being given a second chance, but even if he’s still not ready, at least I’ll still be able to give him what he wants more than anything else in the world…_

Arya bit her lip as she waited for her brother to say the words they both knew she was waiting to hear. _Whatever you do, please don’t try to lie.I’ll know if you do and then you’ll be right where you are now and won’t even get your revenge._ Rickon was taking his time and plainly thinking very carefully about how he wanted to respond to his sister.That was a good sign, or…it meant he was more likely to answer honestly, at least. 

“Are you sure you want me to answer that?Wouldn’t you rather talk to someone who will quiver in fear the moment they see you and tell you some sort of pleasant little lie?You seem to have grown quite fond of those.No wonder you fit in so well with the Boltons,” the youngest Starkling replied, his voice a perfect blend of quiet disappointment and cold contempt.Although the Queen of The North had brought her brother enough food to ensure that he never lost his strength the way Bran did, his body had been slowly decaying for years all the same.  In truth, there were nights where he looked more like a bloodthirsty grumpkin than a man.  

“I always want you to tell me the truth, Rickon.I’m surprised you still haven’t realized that I’ll still care about you no matter what horrid things you say to me.I know that’s not really you talking, but even if it was, you’re still my brother and nothing you say can ever change that.I never wanted any of this to happen and –” 

“You still don’t get it, do you?You never will, most like…” 

“Get what?” 

“I DON’T BLAME YOU FOR ANY OF THIS, YOU TREASONOUS MORON!That’s not why I hate you!Did you know that I liked you more than any of our other siblings when we were little?I looked up to Bran the most, but I used to think you were the best big sister anyone ever had.Would I have felt that way if I thought you wanted something like this to happen?I hate you because you turned your back on OUR family…our real family, not those four little monsters that you brought into the world.You didn’t forget who you were like Bran did, you decided you didn’t want to remember because you care more about your precious litter of leeches than you do about avenging our family.You could’ve stayed a Stark, but instead you chose to be a Bolton because raising those four whispering, scheming little brats was more important to you than finding a way to help Bran and me escape.” _Don’t talk about escaping Rickon!I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that word, but if you say it again…_

“We both know that my children didn’t kill anyone in our family, no matter how much you hate their House."  

"They're little Boltons who will someday grow up to be big Boltons.  If they don't deserve to have their throats opened today, they'll certainly deserve it tomorrow."  

"They never asked to be born into House Bolton.  And I did everything I could to protect you and Bran, but –” 

“Then why are you the Queen of The North instead of rotting in a cell right across from me?And that…that thing the bastard created isn’t even our brother anymore.How come you never killed Ramsay?That might bring Bran back, but you’ll never do that because it might mean you wouldn’t be around to look after your flayers-in-waiting.” _I’m sorry, Rickon.I really was trying to protect you…_ “You want the truth?You will always choose those four spoiled brats over Bran and me.  I'm sure you'll shed a few lizard-lion tears first about how much you wish you could've saved us, but we both know that you made your choice years ago and haven't looked back since.How’s that for truth?Oh I’m sorry, was that not the truth you wanted?How rude of me!”Arya bit her lip. _Domeric was right; he’ll never be ready…not really.I’m sorry, Rickon, I tried my best.I really did!I don’t know what else I can do for you.   I'm not betraying you...not really.  I’m just…doing what’s best for everyone is all._ _I have to act the way I normally do around him, else this will never work._

“I…I can’t just do whatever I want; I have to think about how my actions could effect my children.They need me and –” 

“My dumb widdle childwen need me,” sneered Rickon, rolling his eyes in disgust.  

“Shut up!”  

“Why do you keep coming here anyway?I never asked you to visit me.”  

“Because no matter how much you hate me, you’re still my brother and I will always love you.”  

“Is that why you let your new family leave me to rot in this cell?Because I’m your brother?”  

“I’m not abandoning my children just because you’re too stubborn to do what it takes to outlive the evil Boltons.”  

“YOU’RE ALL EVIL!”  

“My children never…I mean…none of them except Randyll ever did anything to you.If you have to hate someone then go ahead and hate me, but leave them out of it.”  

“Don’t worry about that, I hate you more than you could ever imagine...but you’re right about your children and their scary whispers.  I swear by The Old Gods and The New that I won’t hurt any of them.”  

“What about me?”  

“What about you?If I were a stronger man, I’d be able to kill you even when I’m not too angry to think clearly, but I’m weak.Part of me still wants to remember you the way you were when you were my sister, so I don’t think I could ever actually hurt you.That doesn’t mean I don’t spend hours dreaming about how much better things would be if you had died when we were little.Before you try to tell me I’m wrong, give me one good reason we wouldn’t all be better off if you’d fallen from the tower instead of Bran and cracked your head open like an egg instead of breaking your legs.Well, I’m waiting…”Arya wanted to reply to the brother she’d lost, but at first the words stuck in her throat.For a moment, all she could do was bite her lip as the room began to grow watery. _I have to be strong, no matter how much it hurts.I can still help him get some sort of revenge.  I owe him that much..._

“Lord Bolton says *sniff* he says that a wise –”  

“I DON’T CARE ABOUT LORD BOLTON!I don’t care about him or your bloody children!What I DO care about is that I needed my sister and you abandoned me.I will NEVER forgive you for that…ever!Do you understand?” 

“I did NOT abandon you!I’ve visited you every single day except when Lyanna was living here.” 

“Who’s that?Some traitor friend of yours?”  

“Rickon, I swear that if there was anything I could do to protect you, I’d do it.”  

“You want to prove you’re not a Bolton?Fine.I’ll forgive you if you cut Lord Bolton’s throat while he’s asleep.” 

“No.I’m sorry, Rickon, but I…I just…can’t.  My children need me,” sighed the Queen of The North. 

“The voices weren’t been whispering scary things last night, so there’s no reason for you to keep wasting your time.I think this is the part where you say you’ll never give up on me and tell me that we’ll speak again tomorrow night.Do I have that right, Queen Leech?” _No, not this time…I’m sorry, but I’m not going to see you tomorrow night, Rickon.  I won't see you the night after that either..._

“I can’t let you out if you’re going to hurt anyone in my House.”  

“House Bolton?That House?” 

“Goodnight, Rickon,” sighed the Queen of The North. _I just have to turn around, keep myself from crying, and this will all be over soon; I might as well get it over with…_ “Wait, I…I did have one other idea, what if  – ”  

“Did you kill Lord Bolton yet?No?Then I’m not interested.”  

“Seven Hells, will you shut up and listen to me for one minute?”  

“Fine, you have one minute.What do you want,” snarled the youngest Stark, all but bearing his five remaining teeth at his sister.  

“There is one person who did something terrible to our brother…someone who isn’t even a real Bolton.Ramsay isn’t part of my House and he’s the only one who has tortured Bran.If I let you out and don’t try to stop you from avenging our brother by killing Lord Bolton’s bastard, then can…can things be like they were before you attacked Nymeria and me?Do you give me your word that you won’t hurt anyone in my…in House Bolton.”Rickon tilted his head, plainly giving his sister’s words careful consideration.A blind man could see that the youngest Stark wanted nothing more than to tell his sister to burn in Hell, but was far too excited by her offer to remember that he was supposed to be wroth with her. 

“Ramsay?I can kill him?Really?When?Now?Can I do it now?  But what if I get caught?”The youngest Stark’s eyes darted wildly about the room with savage delight as if he were already searching for something he could bury in the bastard’s skull.Or mayhaps Rickon was simply scanning the room for a piece of glass he could use to open his sister’s throat; in truth, it was impossible to say…  

“Do you swear by The Old Gods and The New that you’ll never tell anyone I knew what you were going to do?” 

“I, Rickon Stark, the last living Stark to remember who he is and brother of two traitor sisters who deserve to burn in the Seven Hells swear never to tell anyone that you had any idea what I was going to do once you let me out of my cell.Can I kill him now?” _At least this way you’ll be able to get revenge on someone before you die.That’s the only thing left that I can give you now…_

“Do you promise not to hurt me or anyone else in my House?I need to hear you say it and I need to believe you, else you’re never going to leave this cell.” _The Rickon I knew died a long time ago._ _Rickon’s become more of a Bolton than I’ll ever be, he just doesn’t realize it.I did everything I could for him._

“If you’ll let me kill the bastard, then I…I guess I promise not to hurt you or anyone else in your House.I swear it by The Old Gods and The New.”Arya bit her lip and slowly unlocked the door to her youngest brother’s cell, only to barely avoid being knocked to the ground as he dashed out of his cell and raced down the hall. _At least Domeric promised to give him a clean death…_

_I’m not betraying Rickon…not really.I’m just…letting him have a meaningful death is all.This is how he’d want to die, most like.And it was Domeric’s idea besides.I wish I knew why he warned me that Lord Bolton was going to execute Rickon within a fortnight, but at least this way Ramsay’s death might bring back Bran.I may not be able to save Rickon, but at least I can still save Bran.He’ll remember who he is after Rickon kills Ramsay, I know he will!And even if Rickon lied about not telling anyone, Lord Bolton would never hurt me…not really.And he probably wouldn’t be that wroth with me for trying to hurt Lord Snow.If he has to blame someone, then he’ll blame Domeric, most like._

_At least my children are safely sleeping in my chambers; I told Domeric that I was going to let Rickon out and he agreed that it would be best to keep them locked in there with us tonight.I hope Rickon doesn’t try to escape instead of killing Ramsay.I forgot to make him promise not to do that.Domeric agreed that this was a fair trade, but he also said he was going to put guards outside the entrance to the castle with orders to kill any young man whom they saw trying to leave Winterfell tonight…_

…

**Bran**

The only limit to how much pain can be inflicted through torture is the torturer’s imagination.Many thought the worst kind of torture involved some sort of physical pain, but in truth, the deepest wounds were seldom made with a flaying knife.This was a lesson Brandon Stark had learned all too well during the past year, much to his sorrow.Lord Ramsay no longer flayed him or subjected him to cruel games although Bran would’ve given anything to return to the days when such things were a daily occurrence…the days when he could still take control of his body for a few minutes.In truth, Lord Ramsay hadn’t laid a finger upon the eldest living son of Ned and Catelyn Stark in quite some time.Instead, Lord Bolton’s rightful heir did something which soon proved far more painful than any mutilation.One day, the Lord of The Hornwood simply announced that “Reek” was to always think the thoughts of Brandon Stark while acting and speaking as Reek for the rest of his life.And so it was that Bran found himself a prisoner in his own body…  

And yet even so, there were still things for which he was grateful for in this wretched existence…things that kept him from completely losing the will to fight against Reek.Chief among them was his sister Arya and her stubborn refusal to call him anything other than “Bran.”No matter how many times the wretched creature that controlled his body insisted that its name was “Reek,” she refused to give up on him and for that, Bran would always be grateful…even if it was impossible to make his body acknowledge his sister in any way other than tormenting her by degrading his own body for Lord Ramsay’s amusement.Another comfort was the knowledge that two of his sister’s children seemed to be more Stark than Bolton.  

Randyll always went out of his way to treat his uncle with a kindness and sensitivity that Bran never knew existed…at least, until Reek told Lord Ramsay about the special chair the boy had designed so that his uncle could move by wheeling himself around instead of crawling on the floor.Lord Ramsay was furious and ordered Reek never to speak to his second eldest nephew again.But like his mother, Randyll still refused to give up on his uncle and as a result, Bran loved his favorite nephew like a son…even if he’d never be able to say so.  

As for Nymeria, not only had she stubbornly refused to address him as anything other than “uncle Brandon,” she’d once slapped her brother Royce in the face for referring to their uncle as “Reek.”Of course, that was a long time ago.These days, the two were near inseparable and in truth, Nym seemed to have a strange sort of power over her youngest brother.On two occasions, Bran had seen her send Royce into a quivering, tongue-tied, servile state of unquestioning obedience with a single annoyed look.In truth, there now seemed to be nothing Royce wouldn’t do to please his younger sister and Bran was quite certain he didn’t want to know the reason for this change…although both he and Reek had their suspicions. _Nymeria’s smarter than her brothers, but I don’t think she realizes what Royce is capable of…Even Lord Ramsay didn’t believe his own Reek when we told him what we saw the boy do to that poor little mouse when he was seven.  He doesn't understand what Royce is...no one else does.   Nym may think they're simply close friends, but I don't think that's how he thinks of it.  If she's not careful, Royce might try to rape her one of these days.  There's something wrong with that monster.  Even Reek agrees with me that Royce is the most dangerous person in Winterfell.  I wish Randyll and Nym didn’t hate each other so much.She’d be much safer with him.If Arya didn’t feel so guilty about the fact that Royce spent his first six years living at Barrowtown, she’d have realized what he is years ago, most like._

Naturally, Nymeria's kindness toward her uncle hadn’t stopped Royce from torturing him whenever his mother and siblings weren’t around.  The boy was particularly fond of placing items by Bran which would make Lord Ramsay think Reek had disobeyed him. _Why won’t Reek let me tell Arya that Royce is probably already planning to become a kinslayer?Royce can’t become king unless Robar and Randyll are dead.He’ll never inherit the title he wants unless they both die without marrying or fathering any children._

_Robar’s just another evil Bolton – although even on his worst day, he’s not half as cruel as Lord Ramsay or Royce – but Randyll is kind, even if he sometimes has a hard time expressing himself when he gets angry.He doesn’t deserve to be treated so cruelly by Arya and he certainly doesn’t deserve to be murdered by a cowardly, lying little monster like Royce.And he’s the only person who never treated me like a cripple besides.Even Nym is always looking at me like I’m some sort of pitiful three-legged puppy she wishes she could adopt._ In truth, that hurt even more than the way the servants used to whisper many years ago about how Bran's fall had left him a cripple, but at least his niece meant well.  

_If Arya would quit being so stubborn and think about how Randyll actually behaves, she’d know that what happened with Rickon couldn’t be his fault.Randyll just...doesn’t do things like that to hurt people.I wish Reek would let me tell Arya that Lord Ramsay tricked him into thinking that Nym had been joking about the Red Wedding.The Bast…the…the…Lord Ramsay was trying to get Rickon, Randyll, and Nymeria killed, most like.Randyll was just a boy when that happened, he didn’t know any better.And Lord Ramsay threatened to kill him if he told anyone besides._  

*CLICK*The door to the second youngest Stark’s chambers slowly creaked open and Rickon Stark quietly entered the room with bloodshot eyes that seemed to be looking in every direction all at once.  Even a blind man could see that the years of isolation and imprisonment had taken a heavy toll upon the youngest Stark’s body and mind.All over Rickon’s head, there were large bald spots where tufts of auburn hair had fallen out, his wrists were twitching wildly, and the youngest Stark's skin had grown pale and splotchy.  However, what frightened Bran most was the look on Rickon’s face…or rather, this most unwelcome late night visitor’s face.It was a look as cruel as any Lord Ramsay had ever worn and yet aside from the eyes, it was as cold and unfeeling as The Stranger himself.Whatever this young man might have once been, he was plainly no more Rickon Stark that Reek was Bran.Something had plainly broken deep within the youngest Stark…the sort of thing that could never truly be fixed.He was like a rabid dog that had lost its mind to its illness and now lived only to bite the first hand it saw.

The youngest Stark dashed toward his brother with the manic energy of a madman in the heat of battle and both residents of Brandon Stark’s body knew what was about to happen.Rickon was carrying a small seat cushion and there could be only one reason why such a person would be doing that at this time of night.It didn’t matter how the madman had escaped or why this was happening, there would be time enough for that later.For the first time either could remember, Bran and Reek shared a common purpose: survival.  

“MASTER,” screamed Reek, but it was already too late.It had been the moment that Rickon entered the room.Years of starvation had left Bran and Reek too weak to fight back as the youngest Stark slowly smothered them with the cushion.“MMMPH!MMMMPPPPH!MMMPH!MMMMPH!” 

“Shhhhhh.Bran.It’ll all be over soon.Our sisters betrayed us, but I tricked one of them.I had to pretend to be really nice to Arya so that she’d let me out and I did make some promises, but you’re not part of her House anymore so I’m keeping my word.Don’t worry, I’m here to help!You’re going to be free soon.” _What happened to you?Are you…have you gone mad?  Arya never betrayed us and Sansa, she…there has to be a reason for what she did.She wouldn’t attack The North unless someone forced her to or tricked her somehow._

“MMPH!MMMPH!” 

“You can thank me later, Bran.I know you’re not yourself right now, but don’t worry, soon you’ll be with our family where no evil Boltons or traitor sisters can get you.I’m sure the Boltons will kill me soon too.When I join you, you can thank me for saving you as much as you want.See, I told you there was nothing to worry about!It shouldn’t be much longer now.” _NO!I don’t want to die_ _!_  
  
“MMMMPH! MMMPH!” 

“I’m sorry, Bran.I know you must be confused, but you’ll understand someday.Things didn’t really start making sense until I’d been locked away so long that I started forgetting how normal people were supposed to behave.Being locked up all by yourself for that long with only the evil, really bad voices who say scary things for company gives you a lot of time to do lots and lots of thinking.That was how I realized that saving you was more important than getting revenge on the Boltons.I couldn’t let Arya find out though, so I had to act polite and normal whenever she came to visit instead of letting her know how angry I was at her.” _What voices?_

“MMMMMPH!MMMMMPH!” 

“Hush little Brandon, don’t say a word.Something, something, something and…umm…how does it go again?Oh well.Hmm…it shouldn’t be taking so long.I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean for you to suffer or anything like that and I have to finish before anyone finds us besides.I can’t wait until that stupid traitor finds out how I tricked her!Let’s try…there, that’s better; sorry for not pushing hard enough earlier.Oh good, you’re not trying to push me away anymore!That must mean it’s almost over.Told you it wouldn’t be much longer!That’s it, shhhhhh, just keep closing your eyes and all your problems will be over forever.You’re doing great, Bran!In a few seconds you’re going to see Robb and our parents.Hmm…I don’t see your chest moving, but I’m gonna keep pushing just in case, okay?Anyway, I’ll be there too once the Boltons kill me and we’ll be a family again…only without the bad people.Soon we’ll all live happily ever after.” 


	8. Arya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 319 A.C.

One of the first things Arya had been forced to learn upon becoming a mother was how to choose her battles.There was a time when the youngest living child of Ned and Catelyn Stark would stubbornly refuse to compromise on anything great or small unless forced…even when it became difficult to remember why she cared so much in the first place, but eventually it became plain that such behavior was just another of the unappreciated luxuries some parents will afford their children.This was true even in matters as seemingly insignificant as ensuring that her children were present when other lords came to visit.  

Randyll’s willingness to greet visitors in the courtyard varied depending upon the visitor…and as much as the Queen of The North hated to admit it, he was the least problematic one in this regard.Naturally, he still couldn’t help but make a hash of things by telling guests he disliked exactly what he thought of them and why…almost as though he were simply blurting out whatever thoughts popped into his head.Nymeria always wanted to personally greet any lords who came to visit Winterfell and would oft beg her parents to let her do so before her brothers had a chance.Nymeria was oft exceptionally friendly – even towards guests whom she despised – and quick to bond with children and young adults from other Houses.Unfortunately, it was not uncommon for a daughter or second son whom she had befriended to begin looking at their older siblings – and sometimes even their own parents – with bitter, hurt, and vengeful eyes.While Arya knew her daughter would never try to turn someone against their family, the thought alone brought back painful memories of what an evil man with pale, blue eyes once did to a sad, lonely little girl many years ago.  

Of course, Royce was another matter entirely.He seemed to get along with most of the lords who visited Winterfell – aside from Lyanna Mormont, who oft made a point of treating him with open contempt – from Lord Manderly to Lord Karstark.And yet there were occasional flashes of something predatory lurking behind his brown eyes and cheerful smiles.No one else seemed to notice it except for Lyanna, Lady Dustin, and Nym – in truth, Arya had oft wondered if Royce instinctively lowered his guard around women – but it was impossible to miss if you were paying attention.The Queen of The North loved her youngest son just as much as she loved all of her other children…but he was the only one who ever frightened her; not because Arya thought he would ever hurt her or even any of his siblings, but because he had somehow grown up to be a Bolton rather than a Stark.  

As for Robar, he oft refused to come out to the courtyard to greet anyone, plainly expecting all visitors to come inside and request an audience with him at his convenience.Lord Bolton would’ve never tolerated such behavior from the heir to The North, but it hardly mattered what Lord Bolton thought anymore…it hadn’t mattered in quite some time.Worse yet, Robar oft went out of his way to ally himself with individuals whom he knew his mother loathed such as Lord Karstark, the late Lady Dustin, and Skinner…who had only managed to keep his neck after Lord Snow’s imprisonment by begging for mercy so many times that Domeric made him Winterfell’s court fool rather than listen to more of the traitor’s pathetic pleas.That was the problem with pestering Domeric into doing whatever you wanted: It only worked if you were the last person to talk to him about the issue in question.Of course, it didn’t hurt that Robar desperately begged his parents to spare at least one of his friends in much the same way that Nym saved Ben Bones by tricking her father into thinking she wanted the treasonous kennel master executed.Arya had never liked her daughter’s friendship with that man – even if he was easily the least cruel of Ramsay's friends – but the thought of her daughter looking at her the way Robar did was simply too much to take and so, she held her tongue as Domeric let the man keep both his life and position.To his credit, Ben Bones seemed to have made a genuine effort to reform himself which was far more than could be said for Winterfell’s nominal court fool. 

In truth, the Queen of The North was almost relieved when Lord Snow vanished from his cell without a trace the night before his execution.Robar hated her enough already for what she’d done to Ramsay and although he had no way of knowing what really happened on that terrible day, the heir to The North soon began looking at his mother the way she might’ve once looked at her own father had she walked in on him bedding a whore.Naturally, Robar dealt with his anger by doing whatever he could to rebel against his mother whether by choosing dangerous friends, engaging in self-destructive behavior, or by simply claiming that meeting guests in the courtyard was beneath him.In the end, Arya simply created a rotation for which of her children were required greet visiting lords…which seemed to satisfy no one while still mollifying each of her children just enough to ensure that they did as they were bid.Not that this had ever stopped Nym from trying to show up early when it was someone else’s turn, much to Randyll and Domeric’s annoyance.  

Lord Manderly, Lord Karstark, and Lyanna Mormont were the three exceptions to this rule.The first two were lords who needed to see House Bolton put on a united front at all times so they would believe it was a fortress without even the tiniest crack for them to exploit.Lyanna, among the Queen of The North’s closest allies and an even closer friend, simply didn’t care whether or not any of Arya’s children greeted her the moment she arrived at Winterfell.Even so, Nymeria and Randyll always joined their mother in the courtyard whenever the Lady of Bear Island came to visit.Today was no exception… 

“You don’t have to wait here with Nym and me,” sighed the Queen of The North without even bothering to look at Randyll as she spoke to him.In truth, even after all these years, Arya could still scarcely stand the sight of her second son after what she’d had to do for him. _I chose Randyll, but it’s his fault I even had to make that choice.I didn’t kill Bran and Rickon…not really.I just…tried to help them is all.Lord Bolton said…he said…even he said I couldn’t have known and…and then…I made him hit me and then…and then I…I mean…there was so much blood…it was everywhere and it was all over…it couldn’t have been on purpose…not even after…it had to be an accident or…or maybe…no, I remember now…there was no other choice…not really.And Ramsay, he was just…in the wrong place at the wrong time is all.That stupid bastard was imprisoned for the only thing he was ever accused of that he never actually did.I had to do it!It…it was only to protect…I had no choice.And he was a monster besides.What happened to Lord Bolton had to be self-defense because otherwise…if it wasn’t, then that means…it means that…I mean…Lord Bolton doesn’t matter anymore…not really.What’s done is done.And…and I wouldn’t have even had to choose if Randyll hadn’t lied about Nym and made Rickon attack her.And then none of the other things would’ve happened either…Bran would still be alive too, most like.It has to be Randyll’s fault.It has to be Randyll’s fault.It has to be Randyll’s fault.I need…it wasn’t…I mean…NO!It was his fault.It was his fault.It was his fault.It was all his fault!I’m sorry…_

“Mother, are you okay?You look like you’re about to cry.”Arya frowned as her pain rapidly turned to rage. _Why can’t you just be wroth with me like Robar?He doesn’t know any more than you do and he still hates me!_

“She’s fine and even if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t want your help,” growled Nymeria. _Maybe someday people will call her The Young Wolf; Lord Bolton once said that was what everyone called Robb._ Suddenly, a slightly panicked voice yanked the Queen of The North out of the blood-soaked past and back into the present.

“Mother?Hello?Can you hear me?It’s me!Mother?Say something if you know where you are!You’re scaring –” 

“I don’t hear you leaving, Randyll.Why are you still here?Didn’t you hear me the first time?No one even wants you around anyway.”  

“I certainly don’t,” muttered the youngest Bolton. 

“Piss off!” 

“Don’t you DARE talk to your sister that way, do you hear me?” 

“Yes, mother.I’m sorry, I was just –” 

“No one cares whether or not you’re sorry.Seven Hells, it’s bad enough that you’ve never been able to do even one thing right in the 17 years since I brought you into this world.Isn’t it enough that two of my brothers…your own uncles are dead because of you?You have to bother your sister too, is that it?Haven’t you done enough already?”  

“Seven Hells, will you at least tell me why you blame me for what happened to them so I can try to make up for –”  

“Why waste time?There’s nothing you can do.My only two remaining brothers were murdered.Their deaths were both your fault and if you can’t see why that is, then that’s your problem.”  

“I…I’m sorry,mother!I never meant to get anyone killed!” _It has to be your fault…_

“Stop whining, Randyll.It won’t raise the dead.”  

“Whatever I did to Bran and Rickon; I swear it was an accident!”  

“You were an accident,” muttered Nymeria. _Did I do that?Is that why Nym hates her own brother so much?Because she looks up to me?_

“We were born at the same time, idiot,” Randyll countered.  

“So what?”  

“So if I was an accident then so were you.”

“Sorry, I meant to say you were a mistake.Is that better?No?What about that you’re probably a regret?I’m definitely not one of those and –”  

“If the two of you don’t stop bickering right this minute, then I’ll send both of you to your chambers right now!”  

“I’m seventeen years old,” whined Nym.  

“Good.Then it should be easy to act your age until Lyanna gets here.”  

“The fuck did I even do wrong anyway,” snapped Randyll, much to his younger sister’s barely-concealed delight.  

“I don’t care where you go, but I want you gone by the time Lyanna arrives.Do you understand?”  

“Yes, mother,” sighed Randyll.It hadn’t surprised Arya in the least to see how much Nym admired the woman whom she affectionately referred to as “Aunt Lyanna.”What the Queen of The North hadn’t expected was that Randyll seemed to get along just as well with the Lady of Bear Island, who in recent years had even begun to display a sort of protectiveness towards the most useless person in Winterfell. _At least I can be nicer to Randyll when she’s here…_   

_I'm glad someone enjoys having Randyll around.Most lords can’t stand him because they’ve never been around someone who wasn’t afraid to make them take a look in the mirror, but Lyanna never paid any attention to Randyll until he told her that she needed to learn how to control her anger about what happened to her family because anger makes people do stupid things and if she let herself be governed by it, then it would make her easy to manipulate.She’s always hated lickspittles near as much as I do…_

In truth, Randyll’s direct and honest nature was one of the few things about him that made the Queen of The North proud to call him her son…no matter how hard it was to forgive him for all the pain he’d caused their family.And of course, there was the look on Cregan Karstark’s face after being told by the second eldest Prince of Winterfell that it was a pity Karhold couldn’t be given to a civilized Wildling so that it might have a ruler who didn’t deserve to be executed for raping little boys.In truth, Lord Karstark’s perversions were only a rumor, but that moment was one of the few times when the pain melted away – however briefly – as Arya found herself unable to resist the urge to nod in approval at her second son…albeit for something that was probably best left unsaid.  

…

It was a relief when Lyanna finally arrived, to say the least.Among the many things Arya had learned over the years was that everyone needed at least one true friend upon whom they could always rely.It was good if you had more than one, but you had to have at least one.Someone loyal whom you could trust with your life…and most importantly, a person whom you knew would always be honest with you.That was the difference between a friend and a true friend: True friends weren’t afraid to tell you when you were wrong.Arya Bolton of Winterfell and Lyanna Mormont of Bear Island had each other…and that was more than enough.The two most powerful women in The North hugged each other fiercely the moment the Lady of Bear Island got off her horse. 

“Aunt Lyanna!Aunt Lyanna!Aunt Lyanna!Guess what my mother gave me for my nameday,” the youngest Bolton excitedly exclaimed, sounding far more like a hyperactive child than a 17 year-old woman grown.“Look!See how sharp the blade is?That’s real steel!My mother gave this to me for my nameday!Its name is _Vengeance_ ,” Nym continued with an almost irrational level of pride.“ _Vengeance_ used to belong to my mother, but she said…she said that she was going to give it to me and that I’ll be able to pass it down to my daughter someday on her 17th nameday.It shines like that because I clean the blade everyday.See how it’s curved in the back?That’s so the flaying knife can hook under a person’s skin and –” 

“Couldn’t you have at least gotten her something normal like her own sword,” sighed Lyanna as she released the Queen of The North.  

“What?She loved her presents.Didn’t you, Nym?”  

“YES!It was the best nameday ever!Thank you for giving _Vengeance_ to me instead of one of my brothers; I promise to always take good care of it!”  

“I know you will,” replied Arya with a loving smile.  

“I’m glad you had a good nameday, Nym, but I thought your mother said she wasn’t going to keep giving you more gifts than your brothers because it was making them jealous.”  

“Oh, don’t worry, Aunt Lyanna!I talked to Royce a week before my…well…our nameday and he’s not jealous anymore.He was really nice about it!”Lyanna gave the Queen of The North a skeptical look before finally shrugging her shoulders.  

“I don’t know what those two worked out amongst themselves, but it’s always nice to see them resolving their problems like adults without involving anyone else,” Arya added.“I wish Robar and Randyll would do that more often.Actually, it was the strangest thing, Royce practically begged me to get his siblings as many presents as I wanted.Anyway, I told Royce I’d let him pick any book he wanted from Winterfell’s library for his private collection and soon he was literally counting down the days until his nameday.”  

“You didn’t forget to give Randyll a nameday present again, did you,” asked the Lady of Bear Island.  

“No, I remembered him this year,” Arya sighed.  

“Good,” the Lady of Bear Island curtly replied in a tone that Arya would not have accepted from anyone else. 

“Oh, I almost forgot!Mother also gave me three bloodhounds to raise all by myself.Well…I had already been training Visenya since she was just a pup like Brandon and Rhaenyra are now.I know some people like cats, but they’re wrong.Dogs are the best animals ever, especially bloodhounds!They work hard, they’re always happy to see you, they have really soft fur, wet noses, big floppy ears, and they’re far more loyal than people.The trick is to start training them when they’re young and…well…I don’t want to bore you.You two haven’t seen each other in a while and I’m sure you’ve got a lot to talk about.Can I show you my hounds later though, aunt Lyanna?I’ve already taught Brandon how to sit, shake, and roll over on command.”  

“Deal!”Without another word, Nymeria happily scampered away.  

“Three bloodhounds and a family heirloom, Arya?You’re spoiling the poor girl.You know that, don’t you,” asked the Lady of Bear Island once the youngest Bolton was safely out of earshot. 

“You heard Nymeria; Visenya might as well have already been her pet and the other two are only pups.  And I couldn't give her a sword two years in a row,” Arya sheepishly replied.  "It was just a small, thin sword like the one my brother Jon had made for me when I was a little girl.  She named it _Frostbite_.  I wish you could've seen the look on Domeric's face when I gave it to her.  At first I was afraid he was going to have the blacksmith executed."  

“I see.And how did Robar and Randyll feel about the fact that their younger sister was being showered with gifts from the only parent who gives either of them any attention?”  

“Oh come on, you saw how happy Nymeria was, didn’t you?"  

"Of course, I did.  It's just...I worry that one of her brothers might start resenting her if they feel you're favoring -"  

"And she deserves a little bit of a break every once in a while besides.  It’s not easy growing up with so many brothers,” added Arya, plainly having no intention of heeding her friend's counsel.  

“I wouldn’t know.”  

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean –”  

“Forget it.I promise you’ll be the first to know if I’m ever wroth with you.Nym hasn’t been feeding any bullies to Visenya, has she?”  

“Well…she did order her to rip out our court fool’s throat, but other than that…”Suddenly, Lyanna stopped dead in her tracks and all the color left her face.“What?Seven Hells!No, Nymeria has not tried to sic Visenya on anyone.I was only joking about –”  

“I know.  It...it’s not that.Listen, I want you to know that I don’t blame you for what I’m about to tell you.I know that it’s not your fault and that you couldn’t have known, else you'd have put a stop to it.But…” 

“‘But’ what?What’s wrong?”  

“Sometimes being a friend means telling hard truths and…”  

“‘And?’”  

“We need to talk about Royce.”  


	9. Royce | Randyll

**Royce**

Royce glanced at his work and frowned as he absent-mindedly stuck a gloved finger into the hole he’d made in one of Qyburn’s boring white mice.It hadn’t always been this way.There was a time when the youngest son of Domeric and Arya Bolton had been a frightened, foolish, feeble excuse for a little boy who would’ve never dreamed of killing more than a few of the kindly not-a-Maester’s little white mice once…and even then, only to soothe his anger, but those days were long gone.It used to be fun to be God of the mice or at least…it was before Royce realized that a God should have dominion over more than just a handful of scraggly little white mice.In truth, the rookery was now a rather dull place and Royce had only broken in out of boredom. _It’s not fair!Nym never gives me permission to skin children…not even the annoying ones.People are animals just like anything else, so why does it matter what I do to them?I could’ve been God of mice AND little kids; they’d all be mine to flay or favor as I pleased, but nooooooooo, Nymeria just had to do her dumb women’s thing.“It’s wrong to hunt children just because you’re bored,” she said.“Don’t you dare hurt that little girl; she’s only two years-old and never even did anything to you besides,” she said.  “You’ll never become King of The North if anyone catches you acting like this,” she said.Seven Hells, Nymeria; it’s like every time I talk about killing something for fun instead of because it’s in our way, you suddenly get all grumpy.I thought women were only supposed to do that when they bled.   If our first kiss hadn’t been so...I mean...she was...but I just...and it…it was like kissing a red-faced angel of death.  She was really scary that day, but that...that only made it even more...made it so...and she was so..._Royce’s lips curled into a wide smile and his eyelids drooped as he re-watched the happiest moment of his life in his mind’s eye over and over again. _We’ll be together forever and if our children cry too much, then I’ll kill them too._

Royce instinctively looked down at the ground in shame before lifting his right sleeve and flaying off a small piece of skin. _I can’t think anything bad about Nymeria even if she thinks hurting people for fun is wrong.Never!Never!Never!Never!Else I might accidentally hurt her or…or even…and then she’d be gone forever and I…I’d have to kill myself too, most like.Nym would be gone and it would be all my fault,_ Royce realized, biting his lip as tears began dribbling down both of his cheeks. _At least she’d go somewhere good when she died, the very best place there is, and I’d go…wherever people who hurt their sisters go.Somewhere worse than the Seven Hells, most like.Anyone who ever tries to do anything bad to Nymeria deserves die!  I could never…I would never hurt her.NEVER!It’s not her fault that she doesn’t know how good it feels to be greater than all The Gods for a few seconds.Women just…weren’t meant to have the power you get from hurting people is all.And Nym said it’s still okay to kill people when you have no choice besides.I can change her; I know I can!_

_Mother was always the same way, she even thought it was bad when Beastly Barbrey told her about how I became that cat’s God when I was six.  Most women are weak deep down...even mother.I still remember that dumb cat; what’d it think would happen when it scratched my face?   I was going to let it lick my face like a good cat, but it attacked me instead.  When I bashed its furry head open, it made me feel the same way I did on my last nameday when Nym and I…when she…when we…and…_For a moment, the youngest son of Domeric and Arya Bolton found himself unable to do anything other than grin like an idiot until the drool rolling down his chin snapped him out of his trance.Royce lifted another mouse from its cage and let out a quite sigh as he prepared to cut open its soft, pink belly.   _Nymeria would kill me if she knew what I was doing to you right now.   Stop screeching and shaking; wouldn't you rather accept your God's will with dignity?  Why should I care if you're scared when you may not even exist?Nym feels real, but how can you know for sure with anyone?  Everyone could just be part of my imagination and since I'll never know, I might as well assume that I made them up...except for Nym...maybe.  It's more fun that way since it means that I can do whatever I want to them.  At least I know I’m real though!I’d sure hate to be just some character another person made up…  _

_I’m sure mother and Nymeria would still love me if they knew my secret, but I simply can’t afford to take that chance.I need them or…I need Nym, at least.Mother’s expendable just like the rest of my useless family, but that would make Nymeria really sad, so I’ll make sure no one ever hurts our mother…unless it means putting myself in danger.After all, I’m not an idiot.Nym’s wrong about being craven; it’s not a bad thing.All it means is that you’re smart enough to outrun a cripple instead of trying to fight a bear,_ Royce thought to himself with a sigh as the little mouse’s fur turned red with blood. 

_Stupid cripples!I always hated Reek the Freak!How could I be related to that monster?He still gives me night terrors.Even Nym admitted that it would be a mercy if Reek the Freak – sorry, "uncle Brandon" – died, so why was she crying near as much as Randyll and mother did when it finally happened?  I thought she'd be happy.  Randyll’s always been too soft-hearted for his own good, but Nymeria never that problem.  Father was right; women are really strange._ Naturally, the irrationality of womanly emotions wasn’t something Arya or Nym would ever understand, so Royce simply smiled and nodded during their ridiculous tirades about “women’s issues” while taking great care to say all the right things.  

_Beastly Barbrey was so stupid.If she hadn’t joked about having a story from when I was six that my siblings might like to hear, I wouldn’t have had to kill her.That cun…umm…I mean…that…that really bad, evil, no good, terrible word that Nymeria said I’m not allowed to even think for any reason ever…deserved a painful death, but I had to make it look like a peaceful one.It was really nice of not-a-Maester Qyburn to give me Tears of Lys in exchange for agreeing to give him smallfolk for his experiments when I become king; I knew I could count on him!_ _I know I don’t believe in you, Old Gods, but please don’t let Nym find out that I almost thought that word.She can get scary when she's wroth with me…_

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*  

“ROYCE,” shouted Nymeria.  

“Can I help you with anything?” _Not again!I meant to be quiet so she wouldn’t know I was here.Why does this always happen whenever I don’t want to listen to her?_

“Yes, I need you to do me a favor.” _Too bad, I’m busy!_ _Whatever it is, you’re going to have to do it yourself and I’m not your bloody slave besides._

“I’m on my way,” Royce cheerfully replied, dropping not-a-Maester Qyburn’s surgical knife and racing out of the rookery as fast as his legs would carry him. _Seven Hells, this is pathetic!_   

“Why is there blood on your clothes?Were you killing animals again?You didn’t…” 

“'Didn't' what?  What do you think I did; abduct some servant’s child and skin him?” 

“Did you kill someone without my permission,” asked the youngest Bolton in a flat, emotionless voice.Suddenly, Royce felt his courage flowing down his left leg like a yellow stream.  

“They were only mice,” blurted the youngest son of Arya and Domeric Bolton.“I mean –” 

“You mean that you deliberately disobeyed me?Are you allowed to hurt cute animals, Royce?”By now, Nymeria was standing so close to her youngest brother that he could smell her breath as she spoke and her pale, blue eyes seemed to be peering directly into her youngest brother’s soul.This wasn’t the way she normally looked at people and in truth, it reminded Royce of the way old man Roose would sometimes look at their mother.  

“No, but I…I can explain…I just…I mean…please don’t hurt me.”  

“ROYCE STAY!” _No!Run away!Run away and…umm…well…maybe…maybe I don’t have to go quite yet.Nymeria would never kill me and she smells really nice besides._   

“Hold on, I have an idea.”  

“Is that so?”  

“Yep, instead of fighting about some stupid dead mice, why don’t we just go to your chambers and AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH,” yelped Royce, collapsing to the ground as his sister kneed him in the groin as hard as she could.  

“Are you insane?You’re being punished, idiot.I hope I didn’t give you a concussion since that’s the only head you seem to be thinking with these days.As soon as you can walk again, I need you to go to father’s solar and clean up Rhaenyra ’s poop.And try not to lie here too long, that floor isn’t going to wipe itself!”  

“Wait, Nym,” wheezed Royce.  

“What now,” sighed the youngest Bolton, rolling her eyes.  

“Just so…so we…so we’re clear.I…I’m not like your…your stu…your stupid dogs.I’m my…my own…man.And as my own…my own man…I choose to…clean up…Rhaenys’…poop.” 

“Fine.And just so we’re clear, you are not allowed to directly disobey me.Ever.I still hate you though,” Nymeria added with a smile that almost made the second youngest Bolton forget the fact that she was the reason he was lying on the ground in unbearable pain. _I knew she…she didn’t really…didn’t want to hurt me._  

“I hate you too!”  

“I hate you more than the people in those stupid songs hate each other.”  

“I hate you more than anyone else in Westeros has ever hated someone.”  

“I hate you more than you’ll ever know.”  

“I hate…hate you more…more than you can possib-possibly…imagine,” gasped Royce after a futile effort to lift himself off the ground.“But I…I can disobey you when…whenever I want and…and I only…only do what you…what you say because I…I feel like it.” _HA!I showed…I…I sure showed her!I think…I think this was a good…a good talk.We covered a lot…a lot of…ground._

“Whatever.VISENYA, BRANDON, RHAENYRA, COME,” ordered Nymeria as she turned around and walked away with her three stupid bloodhounds in tow. _No one…no one tells me what to do!If I’m going to…going to clean up dog poop then it’ll be…it’ll be because I want to and…HEY!Wait a minute…_

…

Royce winced in disgust as carefully cleaned up the foul, brown pile sitting on the stone floor of his father’s chambers. _Ugh, the smell is even worse than last time!Why can’t the servants handle this?Stupid dog; you’re lucky that Nymeria is your owner, else I’d skin you…slowly.What was Nym even doing in here anyway?Was she looking for something?It doesn’t look like any of the locks are broken.Okay, that…that’s the last of it.Seven Hells, that still hurts!You don’t just knee someone there like that without a really good reason.Could this day possibly get any worse,_ the youngest son of Domeric and Arya Bolton wondered as he tossed the last bit of dog poop out the window. _I bet I wouldn’t have missed the smallfolk each time if I weren’t in so much pain._

As if in reply, the door swung open and Royce saw his mother – her face the personification of tranquil fury on the verge of erupting like a fiery volcano – looking at him as though he had just committed some unforgivable crime. _Okay, think, what did I do that she’d know about?The Bitch of Bear Island was supposed to visit us today, so it’s probably something she said.I don’t know how Randyll, Nymeria, and mother can stand that woman.Who does she think she is?Calling me a craven lickspittle...just wait until I’m King of The North.  Then hen we’ll see who the craven lickspittle is…No, I can’t hurt the Bitch of Bear Island, that would upset Nym.Oh well…_

_Wait a minute…did Benjen Mormont tell on me?   That bear bitch's cheese-eating little rat of a son saw me killing mice once and could’ve told his mother.If Nymeria hadn’t forbidden me from hurting anyone in that bloody family then I’d grab Lyanna’s son by the throat and I’d…FOCUS!I have to make this good if I want to make mother feel so guilty that she doesn’t punish me.  _

“Mother, would you still love me if I…even if…even if I did something bad?”  

“I will always love you, Royce, but –” 

“Right, but what if it was something really bad?Like what if it was something evil?Something I didn’t want to do only…only I couldn’t not do it.”  

“Of course, but we need to talk about –” 

“I know, we should talk about it.I wanted to say something, but I…I mean…I was worried it would be…well…no one should want me as their child after what I did.Did you ever worry that your mother never loved you when you were little or…did you ever do something bad?  Something so terrible that you thought it might make her hate you if she were still alive?”Arya only hesitated for a moment, but that was all Royce needed to know he was on the right track.  

“My mother always loved me, but –” 

“You’re probably right.No matter what happened at the Red Wedding, you’d always be her daughter...even if you got her killed.  I'm sure she'd understand.Maybe…maybe I can tell you what I did; it’s not like you’d ever betray your own family.I don’t think what happened to your mother and brothers was really your fault, no matter what everyone else says when you’re not around.” _Come on, cry!Cry!Cry!Cry!_   

“I…I didn’t mean to –” 

“Just promise you won’t…promise you won’t send me away again like you did when I was little, mother.I know you probably never wanted me as your son, but Barrowtown was such a horrid place and…and –”Arya bit her lip and her eyes grew watery, but there were still no tears. _You should be crying by now; did I do something wrong?  I should probably start crying before I tell her about the mice._

“Royce, I…I promise that I’ll never…I’ll never let Domeric do something that to you ever again.I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you when you were a baby, but now…”Arya’s voice trailed off as her youngest son hugged her and began to sob carefully practiced tears.  

“I…I never meant to kill the mice, mother.Please, I *sniff* I don’t want to *sniff* I never wanted to hurt anyone.I only told Lyanna’s son that I’d kill him if he told on me because I *sniff* I was *sniff* I was afraid you wouldn’t want me as your son anymore and I *sniff* I don’t want to go to The Wall or somewhere scary like…like Barrowtown.Please, don’t hate me!I *sniff* I’m trying to stop, but I *sniff* I can’t stop myself sometimes.Please *sniff* I can change or *sniff* why do I…what’s wrong with me?I’m scared!I never *sniff* wan-wan-wanted to hurt anyone, mother.I can *sniff* be good, I swear!I just *sniff* I just need your help.I’m sorry for hurting the mice, mother.  I didn’t *sniff* mean it!Please don’t give up on me,” wailed Royce as his mother returned his hug and began gently patting him on the back.  

“Shhh…it’ll be okay, Royce.Shhh…I know you didn’t mean it…shhhhh.Don’t worry, there’s nothing you could ever do that would make me stop loving you.I promise that you’ll always be my son.Shhh…it’s okay, no one’s going to send you away.Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.I know that you’re doing the best that you can; they’re only mice…shhh.You’re still a good person, you just…made a bad mistake is all.  Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.I’m happy to help you any way that I can; all you have to do is ask.Shhh…it’s okay; I’ll always be here for you, I promise!” _I win!_   

“Am I *sniff* can I still eat dinner with our family when Lord Robin and Lady Sansa come to visit with you and father later this week?Robar said they were coming to negotiate a peace agreement or *sniff* at least to try and negotiate one.I understand if you don’t want anyone to know that I’m your son, but –”  

“Of course, you can, Royce.You’re a member of House Bolton too, aren’t you?”  

“I guess so…”  

“Of course, you are.And I want the Arryns to see all four of my wonderful children besides!”  

“I love you, mother!”  

“I love you too, Royce!” _Maybe next time I’ll be able to actually make her cry…_

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Randyll**

“Lyanna?” 

“Yes, Randyll?” 

“Never mind,” sighed the second eldest son of Arya and Domeric Bolton as he nervously kicked at the dirt of Winterfell’s glass garden.In truth, it was a nice place to watch the plants and quietly ponder the latest madness to consume House Bolton of Winterfell.And you didn’t have to worry about being spied on there besides.The castle was different, at the very least, there was no way that Royce would’ve told everyone about those tunnels unless he’d found another way to spy on people.  That meant that there were some hidden tunnels which only Royce knew about, most like.And Robar had all but taken over the rookery, much to Qyburn’s annoyance; the Crown Prince of The North was plainly plotting something…even if he wasn’t smart enough to be dangerous to anyone other than himself.  

Over the past few years, the glass garden had become Randyll’s safe space and the Lady of Bear Island was the only other person whom he allowed to join him when he was using it to decompress.In truth, Randyll sometimes permitted the servants to do so too, but that didn’t count since the smallfolk weren’t really people. _Lyanna hates this place near as much as mother.They just don’t understand how relaxing gardening can be or mayhaps they think that the Northern lords won’t take them seriously if they’re seen enjoying the normal activities of their sex.I don’t know how anyone could find gardening boring; it’s so quiet and peaceful.You get to watch the seedlings you planted grow up and live a peaceful life free from fear or worry…lucky bastards.I wish I had it that good…_ _Plants don’t waste their days arguing like a bunch of spoiled children either._

_I have to focus!Lyanna only comes to the glass garden when she visits because she knows how special a place it is to me.She’s always had a short attention span and soon she’ll be too bored to answer any questions about mother.Seven Hells, at this rate, I’ll be a gibbering, murderous half-wit like Prickon Stark by the time I’m twenty._

“So you…umm…actually like just standing around and watching plants grow?”  

“Of course, I do.”  

“Okay…well…I don’t, so I’m going to see if I can track down your sister.Hopefully, I can pry her away from Royce.I don’t think it’s a good idea for Nymeria to spend any more time alone with your little brother than absolutely necessary.” _You have no idea…GROSS!Damn it!I don't want to think about that!I can’t even tell anyone who could make them stop because then they’d lose their heads.Royce has never been mean to me and Nymeria…well…she’s always been a cunt, but that doesn’t mean she deserves to die…probably.   And she's still my sister besides.  I don’t want anyone to hurt Royce either; he wouldn’t harm a fly.Seven Hells, why couldn’t I have been born blind?  Shit!  Lyanna’s already starting to leave!  _

“Wait, you…you know my mother really well, don’t you?”  

“Your mother has been like an older sister to me ever since the Iron Born kidnapped my family from Bear Island when I was a little girl.In truth, she’s as much kin to me as they were; none of you people realize how lucky you all are to have each other,” Lyanna sighed.“I’d give anything to have both of my parents, two brothers, and a sister…”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to remind –”  

“I know.”  

“Does my mother…”  

“Does she what?”  

“Deep down, she loves me…doesn’t she?”  

“I remember when you, Robar, and Nymeria were all happy little children…well…Robar was never really little.Even then, I knew how smart you and your sister were; you could read better than most Lords by the time you were four and Nym got in trouble for perfectly copying your father’s handwriting and showing the kitchen staff a forged document ordering them to give her as much lamprey pie as she wanted.  One of the cooks brought it to your mother because none of the servants in Winterfell's kitchens knew how to read.  Even though most of the words were spelled wrong, I think your mother was still so impressed that she actually ordered the cooks to comply with the order, but Domeric quickly put a stop to that.  I suppose even he was bound to do something right once in his life.Robar…well…he certainly took his time learning how to talk.It was a problem.”  

“But what does that have to do with –”  

“Well…if you’d let me finish speaking, then mayhaps you’d know.”  

“Sorry, I…wait a minute…you interrupt people all the time.”  

“Right…well…that’s me and we’re talking about you right now.”  

“Whatever,” muttered Randyll, rolling his eyes.  
  
“The point is that I was at Winterfell when you were just a baby and I saw the way that your mother’s face lit up every time you did…well…anything.She loves you with all her heart, she just…has trouble showing it.”  

“Then why does she hate me so much?” 

“I want you to listen to me very carefully, Randyll.That has –” 

“Okay, but -” 

“How can you be listening if you’re already talking?” 

“I can’t be,” mumbled Randyll. 

“Exactly.You can’t EVER tell Arya I said this and if you do then I’ll say you’re lying, but that's not really about you.  Your mother has…never been very good at dealing with guilt and she always blames herself whenever anything bad happens to someone she cares about.”  

“Is it because of how her mother died at The Twins?What happened there?Did she tell you?She won’t tell me what happened.” 

“And neither will I; no one but your mother has the right to decide who gets to know what happened that day.All I can tell you is that she was just a confused little girl who did something terrible without realizing it and as a result, some people she cared for a great deal are no longer here.I also know that she’ll never forgive herself for surviving or for her part in what happened.”

“But why would she feel guilty about surviving?  That doesn’t make any sense.”  

“Mayhaps not, but she feels that way all the same,” replied Lyanna, shrugging her shoulders.“Your mother also blames herself for hurting someone else, although she won’t even tell me who.” _She’s talking about my uncles, most like._ “She’s oft told me about how horrid she feels about taking the person’s death out on you though.Whoever she’s talking about, I don’t think Arya could live with herself if she blamed herself for their death.Do you understand?” 

“I think so.Wait a minute…do you swear that my mother said she feels bad about how she treats me?Swear it by The Old Gods and The New!” 

“You mean that there’s someone else who she feels bad about –” 

“No, the other part.” 

Well…I swear it by The New –” 

“Aunt Lyanna, can I show you my bloodhounds now,” shouted an excited voice from outside the glass garden. _Not now, Nym, this is an important conversation and…Seven Hells, Lyanna’s already leaving.What do I have that can compete with three trained blood hounds, two of them puppies?_   

“Do you want to see the plants that I’m growing,” blurted Randyll.The Lady of Bear Island turned around and looked at the second eldest son of Arya and Domeric Bolton as though he had just grown a second head.  

“If you like this place, that’s fine, but I’ve had about as much of it as I can stand.And try not to take what your mother says personally, she doesn’t mean it and is in a lot of pain besides.” _I just…wish I knew the right words to fix whatever is wrong with mother.There has to be some way I can help or make her see reason.Shit!I didn’t get to make Lyanna swear that what she said was true.Damn it, Nym!_

…

As it happened, Randyll did not have to look very hard to find his mother; she was in the same place she always was as the afternoon drew to a close: sitting at the head of the table in the Great Hall so that Domeric would be forced to sit to her right.For his part, the King of The North knew better than to even pretend to consider trying to physically move his wife even if she was only a little over five feet tall.  

“Who’s…oh, it’s you.What do you want now,” sighed the Queen of The North.“Whatever it is, the answer is no; you should know that by now.”  

“I just want to talk.”  

“I’d love to, but as you can see I’m very busy,” replied Arya as she began closely inspecting her fingernails.  

“Seven Hells, is that really necessary?”  

“You’re still here, aren’t you?” 

“Mother, I –”  

“Not listening!” 

“You don’t really think uncle Bran –"  

"Don't you dare call him 'Bran!'  You don't have that right...not after what you did."  

"Fine.  You don't really think uncle Brandon and uncle Rickon’s deaths were your fault do you?”  The Queen of The North nearly fell out of her seat in surprise at her second son’s question, but within seconds her initial shock had plainly given way to an anger the likes of which Randyll had never seen before.  He’d seen angrier people, but he’d never seen someone look quite so unsure about who they were angry at.  

“Did your father say I thought that,” asked Arya in a voice as flat as a wooden board. 

“No.” 

“Then who –”  

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that.Now for the last time, who said –” 

“No, you won’t because I’m not going to tell you."  

“Mind your tongue.Why are you even here?Do you really think I’ve forgotten that both of my younger brothers are dead because of you?  Bran and Rickon are dead while you continue to mock their memories by throwing their names in my face as if I have to explain myself to you.  I don't owe you anything...not after what I had to do for you.  It's bad enough that I have to suffer whatever words you've deluded yourself into believing are worth a second of my time.  I can't even look at you without seeing Rickon's head on a spike, so how do you expect me to forgive you for what you did?”  

“You really think I wanted them to die, don't you," murmured Randyll in disbelief.  

"I don't care whether or not you wanted them dead.  I don't care where you are or what you do either.  In truth, I don't even want to know anything about you, so long as you're alive.  Whatever else you may be, you're still my son and you are a Bolton of Winterfell...but unless you can bring back my brothers, my interest in whatever you have to say begins and ends there.  Do you understand?"   _Why...why did Lyanna lie to me and make it sound like my mother really loved me deep down?  She should've just told me the truth.  At least she cared enough to lie...  I wish she was my mother instead of Arya!  Why do I even...I mean...she can't mean it.  It's like Lyanna said, she's just been through a lot and doesn't handle guilt very well.  It could happen to anyone, most like.  She's as much a victim as I am, only...what's wrong with me?  Why doesn't she ever take her problems out on Royce or Robar?  Of course, she'd never speak so much as a single bad word about my precious, wonderful, adorable, little sister who can do no wrong.  Arya's my mother and that means she has to love me at least a little bit...doesn't it?  What if she really does wish I'd never been born?  Maybe she never loved me..._

"I understand," sighed Randyll.  

"Good.  Oh and one more thing —"  

"Yes, Lady Arya?"  

"What did you just call me?"  

"I said...I mean...umm...nothing."  

"Good, that's all I want to hear from you today: nothing.  Wait, Randyll, I...I only meant...just...just go away," mumbled the Queen of The North, looking down at the ground in shame.   _Does she feel bad about what she said to me?  Good!  Serves her right!  Mayhaps father was right and I have to put my foot down and draw the line somewhere.  I'm her son, not a some pillow for her to punch every time she gets upset.  Why do I always have to be the one to forgive and forget?  How is that fair?  If have to hear even one more bloody word from Nym about how lucky we are to have such a loving and devoted mother..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, had to do a slight retcon of chapter 10


	10. Nymeria

“Aunt Lyanna?Why did you come to Winterfell,” asked Nymeria, scratching Visenya behind her left ear as she waited for the other members of House Bolton to make their way into the courtyard. _At least I have someone here to keep me company while I wait…_

“Am I bothering you?”  

“No, I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just…I was surprised we’re having a visitor from The North at the same time the Arryns are coming to negotiate a permanent peace agreement, so I thought –” 

“Is it really so hard to believe that I came here to support your mother during what is going to be a very difficult few days?We both know your father won’t be any help,” muttered the Lady of Bear Island.  

“No, that’s not it, else mother would’ve had some other lords come to Winterfell with you.Bear Island doesn’t even have very many soldiers and –”  

“Our weakest man is worth thirty mainlanders!”  

“Fine, but there are still only so many of you,” replied Nymeria, rolling her eyes.“I think you came here because you want something from the Arryns.You’d never betray us; you’ve been a truer friend to House Bolton than the rest of The North combined.I’m glad that House Mormont was wise enough not to get all sentimental about the Starks the way the Umbers did.Mother’s the only Stark I’ve ever seen you show any real loyalty to and she was already a Bolton by the time I was born besides."  

“Can we talk about something else,” asked the Lady of Bear Island, awkwardly shifting about and looking down at the ground as though the youngest Bolton reminded her of an unpleasant truth rather than complementing her. _Seven Hells, is she still upset about the Red Wedding?I’m sure what happened there was horrible and Lord Bolton got what he deserved for all the horrid things he did to mother, but the past is the past.Lord Bolton is dead and I’m pretty sure it hurt a lot when he died too, so there’s nothing to be done about it now.And the Red Wedding was all Robb Stark’s fault besides._

_What old man Roose did to my mother was horrid, but the Red Wedding wouldn’t have happened if my half-wit uncle had the brains the Old Gods gave a turnip.He should’ve broken his promise to the Freys for a betrothal to someone who could’ve actually helped him like Margaery Baratheon.   Even if she was already married to Tommen Lannister – or whatever name the Lion King is using these days – then Robb Stark could've still tried to wed that mad Dragon Queen who gave herself all those silly titles and died fighting that one-eyed Greyjoy’s fleet.It’s a good thing the Targaryen imposter’s dragons burned the Iron Fleet to a crisp after she died, else the Greyjoys could’ve been a problem for The North…well…an even bigger problem.They had already invaded Bear Island and would’ve taken aunt Lyanna too if she hadn’t hidden from them and then been smuggled to the mainland by a servant who survived the massacre._ _I wonder where those dragons are now; last I heard, two of them burned down the entire city of Braavos three years ago._ The youngest Bolton smiled at the thought of all the chaos it created south of The Neck when there was no one left to borrow money from…of course, there was also no one to collect payments on outstanding debts. _Stupid Sothrons._ Nymeria’s smirk quickly turned to a frown when she saw the worried look on Lyanna Mormont’s face as the Lady of Bear Island rubbed her forehead with her right hand.  

_I hope aunt Lyanna never finds out what the Iron Born did to her mother and sisters; it would break her heart if she ever had to stop pretending there was a chance they didn’t spend the rest of their short lives getting raped to death after being claimed as salt wives. When I’m Lord of Winterfell; we’ll invade the Iron Islands and civilize those water-loving Wildlings so that they never ruin another innocent little girl’s life ever again!  It’s bad enough that those savages don’t respect us, but no Northern child deserves to have their family ripped away from them like that._

_Most people aren't just born evil, so there has to be a reason the Iron Born act like such blood-thirsty savages.  It’s because they're suffering from cultural rot, most like.  We’ll tear down every last temple to their made-up water Gods and take all the highborn children in the Iron Islands to the mainland to be taught how to be loyal servants of House Bolton. That way they can learn to be proper Northerners and won’t even have to be on the Iron Islands when we execute any of their parents who refuse abandon their barbaric customs.  We can just tell them that their parents died of natural causes instead.  It’ll be a mercy!  I’ll make sure Royce spares any Iron Born who cooperate and try to adapt to the civilized world; it may not be easy for them at first, but practice makes perfect._

_Of course, we’d also have to make sure they all learn to keep the Old Gods so that they belong to the right faith, else they’ll just regress to their old ways.I’m sure some of the grown-ups will secretly cling to their fake Gods, but once we’ve properly educated their children, it’ll just be a matter of waiting for the old people to die off.No need to rush the inevitable!Some innocent Iron Islanders will die, most like, but a better society will be built upon their graves.If you want to sup on blood-sausage, then you’ve got to be willing to butcher some hogs.That doesn’t mean you have to torture them or enjoy doing it like Royce does, but they still have to die and that’s all there is to it.No sense crying over spilled milk, after all!_

_Mother may not approve of my methods at first, but she’ll come around, I know she will!She’s going to be so proud of me when she sees the world I’ve created.I’m going to remake it in my…no, in OUR image.No matter what happens though, I can’t do it without mother.I need her to help me…I mean…to help Royce rule so that I’ll always have someone in my life who can keep me grounded and won’t be afraid to tell me when I’m wrong.If anything ever happened to mother then the power might go to my head and who knows what could happen then…No one is incorruptible, not even me, but mother’s as close to being incorruptible as anyone will ever come.I’m going to be just like her someday, only I’ll be strong enough to do what needs to be done…no matter the cost.I owe my future subjects that much, at the very least._

_Mother always said that I could do anything I wanted to when I grew up.Well I know what I want to do!No, not ‘want’…I know what I AM going to do!I’m going to gain absolute power over The North, The Iron Islands, and The Riverlands and mold them into a perfect world.It will be a place where no innocent little boy will ever be turned into…well…whatever uncle Ramsay did to uncle Brandon.I’m going to make the Northern half of Westeros into a place where no one who is even half as good a person as my mother will ever have to watch her family get slaughtered by a cold-hearted bastard like my grandfather and then be made to think it was her fault.I wish…mother’s done so much for me and if I could only find the right words to help her, I could…Help me, Old Gods, I don’t want to fail her!Please, just give me the right words and I…I swear I’ll pray to you three times a day for the rest of my life!  I'll even make everyone in The Riverlands pray to you too, just...just help me find the right words.She doesn’t deserve any of this and…well…even if I can’t save my mother, at least I’ll be able to save another little girl like her someday.My grandfather was a monster and he deserved to die for what he did!_

_I’m going to atone for all the horrid things my House has done.   "Bolton" is going to be an honorable name again someday!_ _All of my…I mean…Royce’s subjects will come to me with their problems because they’ll know I will help them however I can whether they be rich or poor.Mother and father are right, the smallfolk are no better or worse than the highborn.In truth, the only difference is that they were unlucky enough to be born into poor families; I’ll make sure all the Northern lords understand that once Royce is king._

_And I can change Royce too!He’s going to be a good King, a kind one who is still willing to do what needs to be done and is wise enough to do as he is bid.I suppose I’ll have to marry some lord and pretend my children are his, but that won’t be a problem either.I’ll just train my husband to accept his place in the world the same way I trained Visenya or the ravens in mother’s private rookery.People are animals and you can train them just like anything else.It’s all about consistently rewarding your pets when they’re good and punishing them when they’re bad.Sooner or later, everyone learns their place and then it’s time to teach the next student._

_I wish I could marry Royce; we belong together only…that’s just not possible.Everyone has to make sacrifices, else the suffering will never end.The Iron Born have to sacrifice their culture, anyone in my way will have to be swept to the side for the good of The North, and I have to sacrifice spending my life with the only person who would ever marry me because he loves me for who I really am instead of for the power that comes with the Bolton name.How could I not love someone who is so slavishly devoted to me and always looks at me like I’m the only God he’s ever known?Royce is always so pathetic and helpless whenever I tell him to do something that he’d never dream of disobeying me.Everyone else is just after my family name, most like, but Royce is a Bolton too so I don't have to worry about that with him.At first, I’d have to pretend to be whatever let me control whichever idiot I end up having to wed, but not with Royce.He’s never tried to change me and mother said that the most important thing about marriages is that you wed someone who won’t try to change you because they already love and appreciate you for who you are._

_Royce loves ME, not my name.I’ll have to give him up someday though.That’s going to be the hardest day of my life, most like.I hope he understands, but if he doesn’t, that won’t change anything…it can’t change anything.Someone has to be committed enough to creating a better world that they are willing to perform one horrid task after another as they build a brighter future for their children brick-by-brick.They have to be dedicated enough to give up any dreams of running away and marrying the person they love.It’ll be worth it in the end though.Someday people will look back at what I’ve done and they’ll call me the savior of The North.Me and no one else!‘Of course I remember Nymeria Bolton of Winterfell!How could anyone ever forget her?She saved The North and was the greatest person the Old Gods ever blessed us with,” parents will say to their children.They’ll build statues of me beside every weirwood tree.I’ll be like a –”_

"Nymeria?Nymeria?Helloooooooo?Is anyone home?Nymeria, are you okay?NYMERIA?”  

“Huh?Wha-what…what happened,” blurted the youngest Bolton.  

“You’ve been standing there grinning like an idiot for a good minute and a half now.Are you sure you’re all right,” asked the Lady of Bear Island. _Oops._   

“Yes, I…I’m fine.Sorry, I was just thinking…well…daydreaming.” 

“Oh, what about?Anything interesting?” 

“Sorry, aunt Lyanna, but it’s a surprise.” _I know she’ll be proud of me when she sees what I’ve done!Mayhaps even prouder than mother…Aunt Lyanna can help me rule my new world too_ , the youngest Bolton decided.  

“Is that so?A good surprise, I hope.” 

“A great one; the best surprise anyone has ever given in the history of The North!” 

“You’re serious, aren’t you?Okay then, what is it?”The youngest Bolton shrugged and began whistling _The Flayed Man’s Cry_.“Oh come on, Nym, you can tell me!It’ll be our secret, I promise!Now then, are we talking about a prank or a present?” 

“Well…if I told you then it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, would it?” 

“I suppose not,” sighed the Lady of Bear Island, frowning. 

“Anyway, where were we?Oh right, so you must want to know some sort of information from the Arryns.Is that why you’re here, aunt Lyanna?” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re too smart for your own good?” 

“Genius is seldom appreciated in its time,” sighed the youngest Bolton.  

“What about humility?”The youngest Bolton shrugged her shoulders as Visenya walked away after letting out a lazy yawn. 

“I mean…maybe if I had something to be humble about.What?What did I say?Do you think I should pretend to be more humble?” 

“It wouldn’t hurt, although I’d rather that you were being sincere when you tried to be humble.” 

“Well…not even I’m perfect.Pretty close, but not quite perfect.” 

“No, you most certainly are not.” 

“You didn’t have to agree with me so enthusiastically, you know,” chuckled Nymeria as the other members of House Bolton made their way into the courtyard.  

“Looks like your aunt and uncle will be here soon.” 

“Either that or my family forgot how to use their indoor voices again while arguing with each other and decided to move the festivities outside.Lucky us,” sighed the youngest Bolton. 

“Seven Hells, I wish you people wouldn’t talk about each other that way all the time.Aren’t you and your brothers even a little bit curious what it would feel like to appreciate each other?”  

“Don’t worry, aunt Lyanna, I appreciate Royce!He’s been a great friend, he tries to cheer me up whenever I’m sad, and he stood up for me when we were little and our father kept trying to make me think I was worth–”  

“I didn’t mean him,” the Lady of Bear Island curtly replied.“In truth, I wouldn’t mind if you appreciated him a bit less.” _What?Why would she…wait a minute.Did he do something to her son?Royce Bolton, if you so much as said a single mean word to that sweet little boy, I swear by The Old Gods and The New, I’ll…I’ll…Benjen Mormont is my friend and if you hurt him then not even the Old Gods will be able to save you!Sometimes…sometimes I just want to grab you by your stupid, animal-killing, craven, selfish, manipulative, hypocritical, lying, bedding-obsessed, lickspittle throat and choke the life out of you.It’s a good thing I love you, else who knows what I’d have done by now…_

_You swore that you would never hurt any of my friends and I promised Benjen I’d keep him safe from you.That was all a set-up to give me a chance to cheaply acquire his loyalty and friendship, but I still made a promise.Sometimes I have no choice except to break my word, but that’s my decision and it’s never going to happen just because you get jealous of the fact that some of my friends happen to have cocks too._

_Seven Hells, did Royce think we were…that bastard!How dare he just assume I was…I’ve never so much as thought about anyone else that way.Ever.Not even once!And Royce doesn’t own me besides.That’s not how this works!_ _I own…wait…that…that wasn’t what I meant.I…I’m nothing like my grandfather or his bastard!I’m not a monster!I can’t be…that…that’s not me.I would never try to own someone.  I wouldn't…not to Royce…I mean…I just…umm…well…anyway, the point is he shouldn’t be hurting my friends!He made a liar of me and I’m going to…no, no, I must needs stay calm and find out exactly what happened so I can decide how punish him._

“What do you mean?What’s wrong with Royce?He…he didn’t hit Benjen in a fight did he?I know they don’t get along very well and –”  

“No, your brother never hurt Benjen, he just…scared him a little.Your mother can tell you about it if she feels it’s appropriate.” _There’s a moral here about not jumping to conclusions, isn’t there?_

_I don’t know why I let my self get so worked up about these things sometimes.Who cares if I get a little bit carried away every once in awhile?That could happen to anyone; in fact, I always catch myself because I’m such a good person.If I was a bad person then it wouldn’t bother me.Nothing ever bothered Lord Bolton and he was the worst person I’ve ever met.I’ve spent my whole life trying not to be like him!If I were a monster, then I’d make everything about myself and spend all of my time obsessing over how to control as many people as possible.But I don’t do that…even though everyone would be better off if they just did whatever I told them._

_I’ll make them listen someday, but that’s not a bad thing either.Most people aren’t like me…not even Royce.There are a few like mother and aunt Lyanna who really do just want to do the right thing, but most of them would steal, rape, and murder all day long if given half the chance.I wish I could just trust them to be kind to each other, but that’s not the world we live in…and I’m tired of living in this world!Westeros needs a strong yet loving hand to guide it out of the darkness and into the light…my hand._

_Most people would let the power go to their head, but that’s why it has to be me who rules…well…rules through Royce.I’ve always been…special.That’s why mother has always treated me better than all three of my brothers combined, most like.I mean…she doesn’t do it on purpose, but even a blind man could see that I’ve always been her favorite and that’s probably because deep down, she knows that I’m not like them.I have a destiny…just like Royce’s destiny is to be my pet.  No, that’s…wrong.Well…the point is that he has a destiny too and seems pretty happy with it, so all’s well that ends well._

"Nymeria?  Are you okay," asked Arya as the youngest Bolton became dimly aware of a hand being waved in front of her face.    


"That's certainly as wide a smile as I've ever seen from her, but this is the second time this morning that she's had that dazed look on her face.  It's like she's in a trance or something.  Honestly, I'm starting to get a little worried," replied the Lady of Bear Island.  Nymeria heard the words, but somehow they all seemed to drift right past her like a feather being carried by a gentle gust of wind.  

_I’ll even let Randyll help me make my dream into a reality if he sees the error of his ways in time.Grudges are for idiots!And Randyll never told on Royce and me, so that’s worth something.Whatever else happens, I’m not going to have him killed.If push comes to shove then I’ll just have to find another way to deal with him.He could’ve ended Royce and my lives or gotten us exiled and disinherited.Randyll could’ve killed two threats with one spear, but he spared us.That means there’s still some good in him…even if he tried to trick uncle Rickon into murdering me for him.I don’t understand why Randyll would lie about me like that, I was always kind to him and I thought...I really thought we were friends.It doesn’t matter; what…what’s done is done._

_I just hope Robar stays out of my way because nothing good can ever come of trying to interfere with my destiny, just ask Lord Snow.That bastard lost everything he had except his life and he almost lost that too.  There’s far too much at stake to let any one person stand in my way.I’m certainly not going to bend over backward to help a monster like Robar adapt the way I will with mother, Royce, Randyll, aunt Lyanna, and my friends in the other Northern Houses.And that goes double for father!_

"NYMERIA!"  

"What?  Where did...how...but you were all the way over...I mean...sorry.  I just got a little lost in my thoughts, mother.  I'm fine, I promise!"   _I really need to stop doing that..._  


	11. Nymeria

The Arryns hadn’t even arrived in Winterfell, but it was already plain that something was very wrong; everyone was acting…strange. _My parents haven’t fought once since they came to the courtyard, Robar’s acting even weirder than normal, and aunt Lyanna looked really upset when mother told her that those bloody Sothrons would be here soon.Does she think Lord Robin might’ve been the one who ordered the Iron Born to attack Bear Island?Is that why she’s here?_ The youngest Bolton quietly crept just within earshot of her parents and almost let out an audible gasp when she heard how they were speaking to each other. 

“Are you quite certain you’re going to be alright,” asked Domeric. _Since when does he ask mother if she’s going to be okay?_

“I think so.Sansa will always be my sister and I still miss her…no matter how much she probably hates me now.” _Why are they talking to each other like this?I don’t like it…_

“No doubt.Tell me, what will you do if your sister’s interests and those of our House prove to be mutually exclusive?Our enemies will do anything to gain whatever advantage they can including exploiting any lingering feelings of guilt or misplaced loyalty that you may –”  

“Sansa wouldn’t do that!”  

“Mayhaps.But if she did, what then?”  

“Then I’ll just ignore her.  I was always good at that when we were children," sighed the Queen of The North.  "I’m a Bolton of Winterfell.  And Sansa's in no position to lecture me about loyalty after everything House Arryn has done besides.I just…let me handle Sansa…even if she's rude at first.She’s still my sister and I…umm…I would appreciate it.Please?”  

“Very well, consider it done.” 

“Why are you being so –”  

“I know what it is to be the least favorite of a parent’s children.” 

“How could you know what that’s like?” 

“My father brought you back to The Dreadfort with him, did he not?” 

“I’m not his daughter,” growled the Queen of The North.  

“And yet you were the one he chose all the same.  In truth, I fear he always considered Lord Snow a far more suitable heir even before the bastard tried to poison me when we were young.Not that it matters anymore…In any case, remember, your sister will only be here for a few days.A week at most, I think.If I could suffer a lifetime of my father’s adjustments then you can suffer whatever memories your sister’s presence may bring with it.” _Why is that bald monster being so nice to mother?Is he…is he actually worried about her?Why didn’t mother say anything to me if she was so nervous about her dumb old sister coming to Winterfell?Have they…did mother and father always keep certain things secret from us?I thought they hated each other too much to do anything like that.They don’t fight near as much as they did when old man Roose was alive, but even so…_

“I know.I’m fine, my…I mean…our children are the ones who matter right now.They’re going to do great things someday and…all that matters is that we keep The North safe for them until they are ready.They came before my brothers and they come before Sansa too.They even come before me.No one else matters…” _Don’t let him trick you, mother!Father’s no different than old man Roose…well…he’s not anywhere near as dangerous, but he’ll still hurt you if you trust him.I know you’re smarter than this!_

“I don’t matter?At all?”  

“You’ve been very kind today, Domeric.In truth, I can tell that you’ve been trying to be nicer to me…even if you’re not very good at it.I really meant what I said about it not being too late for you to be better than your father and I appreciate that you finally admitted that I’m not your property…even if I shouldn’t really have to thank you for it.None of that has gone unnoticed, but don’t push your luck,” the Queen of The North added half-heartedly as she gently rubbed the thin scar that ran from her lower lip, all the way up her cheek to just below her right eye. 

_If I hadn’t been too scared to do anything then maybe…maybe Ramsay wouldn’t have been able to cut her after he saw what had happened to Lord Bolton.She wouldn’t have a scar if I had...if I…I mean…I’d have just gotten in the way, most like, but I should’ve done…something.I won’t…I can’t let anyone scare me like that ever again!If mother, aunt Lyanna, or Royce ever need me then I’ll always be there for them and I...I just didn't know what to do at first._ The youngest Bolton shuddered at the thought of her half-uncle’s cruel, hungry eyes and wet-lipped smile.In truth, the one-armed monster still gave her night terrors and was the only person whom the youngest Bolton had ever truly feared. 

_At least I was able to stop him before he could…before he…before he tried to…I’m sorry, mother!  I promise never to fail you like that ever again!It was easy to be brave when Royce was around; I knew he’d never let that bastard hurt me, but when it was just us then I…I’m going to make it up to you though.I’m going to create a world where there won’t be anyone like Lord Snow because all the monsters will be dead and everyone will know I was the one who killed them.Me and no one else!_

“I have never done anything unforgivable, I think,” replied the King of The North. _You can’t be serious._

“I was trying to say that you’d been doing better…don’t make a hash of things.Can’t you just accept the compliment and move on without starting a fight?” 

“I said that you weren’t my property, what more do you want from me?” _Okay, good, they're fighting again.  Mayhaps now things will finally go back to normal…_

“Seven Hells, Dom–” 

“You're being quite rude, I think.” 

“You really want to do this again?Today?In front of Lyanna and the children?Fine.You want to know why I’d still rather sleep on the stone floor every night without so much as a pillow instead of even having to think about sharing the same bed as you?You really want me to tell you AGAIN what you did that was unforgivable?I was forced to marry you after your father turned me against my own mother before he helped the Freys murder her along with my eldest brother Robb and –” 

“That was my father, you even said that I’m not him.That wasn’t my –” 

“Lord Bolton wasn’t the one who knocked me unconscious and raped me!” 

“A man cannot rape his wife.And my father made me –” 

“You had a choice!” 

“But…but he told me to do it.  What else could I do?” 

“Seven Hells, do you have any idea how pathetic you sound?‘I only raped my wife twice because my father told me to do it.’For once in your miserable life, you could have told him ‘no,’ but you didn’t.Instead, you beat little girl who’d just lost her mother until she lost consciousness and then raped her before she woke up.You did that to me twice and I will NEVER forgive you for that!Do you hear me,” snapped Arya. 

“I drugged you the second time so that I wouldn’t have to hit you.  That was a mercy, I think.And I made sure you were unconscious both times before I did anything besides.Do you think I enjoyed it?I can assure you that I did not.In truth, I was even more of a victim than you, so you shouldn’t belittle my suffering like –” 

“Burn in Hell!” 

“Don’t even think about it, Nym.Your parents may not notice you eavesdropping on their argument, but nothing you and your brothers do ever gets by me,” whispered the Lady of Bear Island. _That’s what you think…_  

“What do you mean?” 

“I can tell that you were about to say something.I know that your father is making an even bigger arse of himself than usual, but you need to let your mother handle this on her own.”  

“But she needs my –” 

“Arya can take care of herself, Nym; I can promise you that much.After everything she’s survived, she’s probably strong enough to crush your father like an ant if she ever needed to…and anyone else, for that matter.If you really want to help your mother, then you’ll help me figure out a way to get Royce and Robar to stop arguing before the Arryns arrive.” 

“ROYCE COME!” 

“That’s not what I meant,” muttered Lyanna as the second youngest Bolton practically raced across the courtyard towards his sister.“If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the Great Hall.Your parents are starting to give me a headache.” 

…

Fortunately, it wasn’t long before the Arryns and their household guard arrived.By now, every member of House Bolton had neatly lined up from eldest to youngest.In truth, even Nymeria had a hard time not laughing at the sight of her mother standing just to the left of The Giant of Winterfell.Robar was big even as a baby, but at over six and a half feet tall, his size had once led one particularly foolish servant to speculate that the crown prince had been secretly fathered by a giant.Of course, the man didn’t speculate about anything else ever again; Domeric saw to that when he had the fool’s tongue out… 

_Aunt Lyanna’s right.  Mother must be the strongest person in Westeros, else how could she have ever survived bringing that ungrateful brat into the world?She’s always been so short.I’m surprised he could even fit…Seven Hells, Royce, what are you doing?_

“Let go of my hand before someone notices,” whispered the youngest Bolton. 

“But –” 

“Now!” 

“Okaaay,” Royce sighed. _Are you insane?_ _What if aunt Lyanna or one of our parents noticed?Do you have any idea how strange this would look,_ Nymeria silently screamed as her youngest brother reluctantly released her left hand.

Suddenly, the gates to Winterfell began to open as the enemy made its way into the heart of The North surrounded by a large household guard which was seemingly being led by a man with a helm shaped like a snarling dog.Nymeria quickly found herself wishing her youngest brother was still holding her hand…not because of the man’s helm, but because of the way his left arm moved beneath his armor…or rather the way it didn’t move. _He’s missing part of that arm just like…no, that doesn’t make any sense.What would Ramsay even be doing in The Eyrie?It doesn’t matter!I can't let anyone stop me from saving The North from itself._

The youngest Bolton had long taken a considerable degree of pride in her ability to not only control her temper around highborn enemies – a skill that had taken years to perfect – but also to interact with them in such a polite and inoffensive manner that few of them would’ve ever guessed her true feelings.And yet now that her family had finally come face-to-face with its two worst enemies in all of Westeros, it took every ounce of the youngest Bolton’s self-restraint not to burst out laughing.In truth, they were the strangest looking pair that she had ever seen. _Is that…that can’t be the king of The Vale; he’s even shorter than mother.Why does he keep drooling?Is he soft in the head?And his wife looks nothing like mother either…mayhaps Lady Sansa was born on the wrong side of the sheets.It wouldn’t be the first time my Stark grandfather had a bastard…even if mother makes us pretend the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch really is her brother.I’m glad Ned Stark got his head cut off though.He wasn’t a Bolton like mother, so that means he had to die just like all the other male Starks._

For her part, Lady Sansa looked like a porcelain doll that had lost its shine after being dragged through the mud one too many times by an absent-minded child.And yet there was plainly something else lurking just beneath the surface…something dangerous.The woman’s smile was too practiced and her eyes were as cold and bitter as a falcon diving through the skies as it prepared to slice open the throat of some unsuspecting rabbit with its talons.  However, the red-haired fool’s blue eyes had purplish rings just beneath them which made it look as though Lady Sansa hadn’t slept in days.  The King and Queen of The Vale both refused to utter a word until they had eaten their hosts' bread and salt…for all the good it would do them. 

“I hope you and Lord Robin had a pleasant trip, Sansa,” the Queen of The North mumbled, barely making eye contact with her older sister. 

“You will address me as Lady Arryn and nothing else, do you understand?  You are not my sister, so such informality is quite disrespectful...even for you.”  

“What are you talking about?Of course, I’m your –”  

“My sister died in King’s Landing when she was a little girl so far as I’m concerned.”  

“FIGHT!FIGHT!FIGHT!FIGHT,” chanted the King of The Vale excitedly hopping up and down. _What are you?Six?_   

“It’s good to see you too,” sighed Arya, having plainly decided not to bother arguing with her sister.For her part, Sansa simply frowned and glanced back at her husband as if to check on him and received a nod of approval.“This is the last time we’ll ever see each other, most like.Is this really how want to remember –”  

“Since when did you care what I want?When you threw food at me at Winterfell?”  

“Is that what you’re upset about?Really?After everything that’s happened?  Seven Hells, I was a child!” 

“Children do terrible things,” the Queen of The Vale matter-of-factly replied as her husband fell to the ground and began laughing so hard that he was soon struggling to breath. _I hope you choke to death!The Vale needs to be cleansed too, most like.With rulers like this, it’s only a matter of time before the smallfolk there are afflicted with some form of cultural rot.   What else can you expect from people who don't even keep The Old Gods?  _

“Why are you –”  

“Mother and Robb died at The Twins and yet you’re still here.Tell me, why is that?Why didn’t you die instead?” 

“What…what happened to you?Are you okay?If something’s wrong, you can still tell me.Whatever happened between our Houses, you’ll always be my…HEY!Where are you going?”  

“Surely that’s enough for now, isn’t it, Robin?Please?I don’t have to keep speaking to her, do I?We don’t need to speak with…that’s enough, isn’t it?I can hardly stand it.There’s no sense in…in wasting…wasting anymore time with her.Can I stop now,” the Queen of The Vale gently asked in a voice that seemed to shake more and more the closer she drew to her giggling little shit of a husband.Suddenly, the mud-covered manchild stopped laughing and all the color drained from Lady Sansa’s face as he calmly uttered three simple words.  

“You’re boring me,” answered Lord Robin in a voice as flat as a board. 

“It was only a jape and –”  

“That’s not funny at all.Did you forget how to do good funnies?Should I do one right now to help you remember a more better job with yours?HA!I wish you could see the look on your face.Your eyes are all big and wide like mother’s were when uncle Petyr choked to death and his face turned all purple.  She got really sad and jumped out the moon door, but her food sacks were all shriveled up by then anyway.  Gooooooood times!”  _Why would anyone be afraid of a dwarf who’s gone soft in the head?  And how is he still king anyway?  I don’t think mother expected Lady Sansa to act this way either.  None of this makes any sense._ Nymeria glanced at her brothers and frowned. _Randyll is acting normally, but Royce is watching these people way too carefully and Robar looks like they’re boring him.There’s something else going on here and I don’t like it!_   "I don't like people who make bad funnies and –"

“Wait, I…I’ll do better this time, I prom–”  

“Leave my sister alone…now,” ordered the Queen of The North in a flat, emotionless voice that seemed to annoy Robar near as much as it amused the Lord of The Eyrie.  

“You…you can’t talk to my Robin that way.He’s so tall and smart and…tall,” Sansa mumbled, glancing back at her husband and seemingly regaining her composure once he nodded at her approvingly.“Robin didn’t marry into the House that murdered my mother and brother.He didn’t betray House Stark to save his own life.He didn’t give birth to the grandchildren of the man who destroyed everything my father stood for either.” 

“What did you do to her,” seethed Arya, suddenly looking at her cousin as though she were trying to decide the best way to twist his head off. _I don’t understand why mother’s so upset.Even if Lady Sansa wasn’t always like this, she’s plainly broken now.If your favorite dog turns rabid, you simply have to put it out of its misery…even if it was the best pet you ever had.And it’d be a mercy if someone did that to Lady Sansa besides.  Sometimes you just have to...Royce Bolton, if you don't stop looking at her that way right now..._

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” the King of The Vale cheerfully replied. 

“I asked you a question.”  

“I don't care.  We played fun and games until she was fixed and never did anything bad ever again.  Your sister was dumb and boring, but I made her all better now."

“If you made her like Reek, I’ll –” 

“You’re confuzzling me, horseface.  I thought Reek of Winterfell died a long time ago in a land far, far away with all the other cripples.”Although Arya’s tone of voice never fluctuated, the youngest Bolton noticed that her mother’s lower lip had twitched ever so slightly when Lord Robin called her “horseface.”The King of The Vale plainly noticed it too...  

“His name, wasn’t Reek!” _Wait a minute…._  
  
“Reek!Reek!Reek!Reek!Reek!Reek!Reek!It rhymes with freak!Reeks like death!Dead Reek!Dead Reek!Dead Reek! Dead Reek the meek freak!” 

“SHUT UP!His name was –” 

“I thought Reek didn’t have a name because his parents died before we found him,” the youngest Bolton quickly interjected before her mother could mention the late Brandon Stark. _He wanted her to say what happened to uncle Brandon aloud…How could he know about any of that?  And why would he wait until now to say anything?_

“Enough,” snapped Domeric.“My Lord, I have held my tongue until now because I was asked to do so by my wife while she spoke to her sister.Now you shall do the same with your tongue unless you wish to lose it…at least until such time as you are capable of treating her with the respect she is due as a Bolton of Winterfell.” 

“Your head doesn’t even have one tiny hair on it.”  
  
“And you’re even shorter than I am,” muttered Arya.  
  
“What did you say?Did you just call ME ‘short,’” seethed Lord Robin.  "Take it back now!  NOW!  NOW!  NOW!"The youngest Bolton glanced at her uncle and grabbed Royce’s hand…only to quickly pull it away again once she realized how sweaty his palm had gotten.  For the next few seconds, Lord Robin’s eyes were like two empty voids that knew nothing except hatred and cruelty. 

“She didn’t mean it, Robin!Please, she…she’s just jealous of how tall you are…I mean…you…you’re the tallest person in The Eyrie,” Lady Sansa frantically added. 

“Only the tallest person in The Eyrie?Bad things happen to the sons of people who speak without permission, especially when they tell mean lies about how tall I am.ANYWAY, time enough for that later!Right now, I think I just lost the making the other person too angry to think good game.We can talk about boring and serious things inside now if you people want,” Lord Robin hissed through clenched teeth.“Actually, one other thing!Lord Ramsay, can you show me which kid is which?” 

“WITH PLEASURE,” shouted the snarling dog-helmed guard as he began struggling to remove his helm with one hand. _NO!It can’t be him!I got rid of him forever and…and I…please don’t let it be him!No, this…this can’t be how it ends!I have a destiny and it is NOT to be killed by that bastard.The Old Gods sent him here for a reason.Maybe they brought him back so I could finish the job.Soon Lord Snow will be rotting in an unmarked grave.  I’ll see to that!Mother may not be willing to poison him, but that doesn’t mean I can’t…_

“When Lord Ramsay arrived in The Eyrie I decided to make him my chief undergaoler.He was really, really good at it.He doesn’t have to come inside if you trust him to wander around out here in the courtyard all by his lonesome…I wouldn’t though.He may be the captain of my household guard for this trip only, but he can be awful sneaky.I had to blind one of his eyes with hot oil so he wouldn’t try any terrible, horrible, no good, very bad plots after I caught him looking at me all mean-like the first time that I drank my supper in front of him.He said I was acting stupid and I hate when people say that about me because I am so smart...even if Lord Hunter and the guards I trusted to bring with me are the only ones in The Vale who know it.Even Lord Hunter thinks he's in charge just because he’s Hand of The King and I don’t argue with him about boring things.He’s so silly!Anyway, Lord Ramsay was good after his eye got hurted and never gave me any mean, not at all nice looks anymore!He’s also really good at making people behave the way I tell them to!Right, Sansa?Hellooooo?Did seeing Lord Ramsay make you go all quiet and stiff again?Oh right, I forgot to tell you he’d be here, didn’t I?Sorry, horseface, your sister is still being fixed and –” 

“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU,” screamed Arya, thrashing about like a rabid dog for a good thirty seconds as Robar quickly lifted his mother off the ground pinned her against his chest in in order to keep the Queen of The North from attacking her cousin.“Let…let go of me!Put me down!” _Don’t worry, mother!I’m going to put that monster down soon.After that, he won’t bother you ever again; Robar’s going to pay for embarrassing you like this._

_And that half-witted brat from The Eyrie better stop laughing right this minute!Why isn’t Lady Sansa defending mother?Even though she’s an enemy, mother still stood up for her!That monster really isn’t loyal to anyone, is she?Children don’t need to grow up knowing people like the Arryns exist.It could give them bad role models and I’m the only person they’ll ever need to look up to besides.When I’m Lord of Winterfell, it will be as though all of the children in The North have a little sister watching over them the way I’ve always looked out for Royce.And if everyone learns to think like me then once I’ve built a world that I think is perfect, they’ll all think it's a perfect world too._

_I’m going to completely erase House Arryn from the world someday.Lady Sansa will be removed from all the records of the old Stark line too.I’ll just revise all the histories so that they never even mention the name “Arryn.”After a few generations, it’ll be as though they never even existed.Who can say what really happened before they were born anyway?Maybe I should just rewrite the histories entirely; when I’m in charge I’ll be able to make them say whatever I want.That way, I’ll still be teaching children from beyond the grave long after I’m dead and buried; they just won’t know it.The Iron Born and the mainlanders would get along better if no one knew about the raids on Bear Island and the Iron Islanders grew up thinking that backwater was always a part of The North.Aunt Lyanna might not like some of the changes, but she’ll come around!Remembering the dead will not bring back those we’ve lost, but forgetting the past can save lives decades before they’ve even begun._

_I KNOW!I can keep the Arryns in the histories and say the Red Wedding happened at The Eyrie.Mother won’t have to feel bad about it anymore because eventually everyone will think her sister was the one who married into the House that killed their mother.And Lady Sansa will be dead by then so its not like there will be anyone left to complain.Robar Bolton, if you don’t let go of our mother right this minute, I swear by The Old Gods and The New that I will erase you from our family line after I kill you…_

“This is for your own good, mother,” sneered Robar.“I’ll put you down as soon as you regain control of yourself.Even if you don’t like Lord Arryn, you once told me that we all must needs to suffer people we dislike.Think of it this way: if I can suffer breathing the same air as you for all these years then you can –” 

“Mind your tongue,” snapped Domeric. _What’s wrong, Randyll?Aren’t you going to try to help our mother?Even father said something!Attacking Robar in public would be a great way to show that you’ll be able to learn how to adapt to the world I’m going to create._ The youngest Bolton frowned and let out a quiet sigh of disappointment. _You’re not going to hit Robar, are you?Seven Hells, Arya is our mother; you shouldn’t be tittering like that when she’s this upset.It’s always going to be “another day, another disappointment” with you, isn’t it?I’m trying to find an excuse to forgive you for telling all of those horrid lies about me when we were children, but you’re really not giving me very much to work with right now…_  

Okay, I…I’m calm now.Did you hear that, Robar?You can let go now.I said…let…me…GO!I’m only going to –” 

“You’re going to calm down and talk about grown up things with me, Sansa, and your dumb family of poopy-heads.If anything happens to me then my son Rodrik is to lose his head and that would upset your sister lots and lots.I don’t think you want to hurt her that badly.Poor little Rodrik is all she has left, after all!  The guest right really doesn’t mean anything to you people does it?That’s dumb.You’re a big dumb dumb head!You have an ugly scar on your face.You should get your dumb scarface fixed so it looks more prettyful like Sansa’s does.Don’t worry about your sister either, scarface, she’ll be better any second.She just freezes up like this sometimes when she sees Lord Ramsay and isn’t expecting it.I guess I won our game after all.What do you think, scarface?”  
  
“I think…you are…a…stupid…DWARF,” shouted the Queen of The North.This time it was Lord Ramsay’s turn to hold onto a pint-sized, screaming ball of impotent rage...a task that would've likely been impossible for the one-armed bastard were the King of The Vale more than five feet tall. 

…

Eventually, Arya and Lord Robin calmed down enough to be released without trying to rip each other’s throats out.Shortly after that, Lady Sansa recovered from her brief catatonic state and went back to calmly insulting her sister, much to Lord Robin’s delight.  Meanwhile, Lord Ramsay slowly made his way towards his half-kin.  

“It's good to see you again, dear brother,” exclaimed the bastard.  

“You may be the captain of Lord Arryn’s household guard, but you did not eat our bread or salt.Remember that, bastard.” 

“Father, he hates when people call him a –” 

“You will be silent, Robar.And it would be rude not to call Lord Snow a bastard, I think.It’s what he is, after all.I expect you to refer to him as such.”  

“As you can see, the tall one who isn’t a treacherous, imbecilic prick is Prince Robar.” 

“A pleasure to meet you, my Lord.Lord Ramsay has told us much and more about you, all of it good,” Lady Sansa cheerfully added as Lord Robin gave a friendly wave to his eldest nephew. 

“The little shit over there is Royce.”  
  
“The craven one,” asked Lady Sansa, as the second youngest Bolton immediately looked down at the ground and bit his lip. _Why do you care what she thinks of you?You better not…I mean…no, it’s probably fine.Royce isn’t like that and I’d be no better than him if I got jealous for no reason besides._ _It’s probably nothing!_

“The cunt of indiscriminate gender over there is Lady Nymeria."  At first, the youngest Bolton simply replied with a wide, closed-mouthed smile  that hid tightly clenched teeth.   _I'm going to be Lord of Winterfell, not some useless old lady!_

"What was your name again?  Lord Snow, wasn't it?  Forgive me if I'mistaken, but I fear you didn't make much of an impression while you were here.  In truth, I hardly remember you," Nym lied, her voice dripping with false cheer.  

“Of course, you never did look the part, what with your mother’s face and your father’s eyes.  The worst of both worlds, I think.  You may be older now, but you’re still far too much man for my taste.  It matters not at all, as father would say.  That leaves…Randyll, Randyll, Randyll!  Is mommy still being weely mean to you?  Poor widdle baby; all alone with no one wove him in the whole wide world.  Must be hard, huh?  I guess you should’ve thought of that before you told all of those mean and nasty lies about…AAAAAAAAAAACCCKKKKKK,” wheezed Lord Snow as Randyll suddenly bolted towards the blue-eyed monster, knocked him to the ground, and attempted to choke the life out of him. 

“Burn in Hell, you lying bastard!” _I…I forgive you Randyll.You’ve earned a second chance._ _I always knew there was still some good left in you!_ _Maybe I can even figure out a way to help you and mother make up with each other..._ Much to the youngest Bolton’s disappointment, Lord Robin’s guards managed to pull her second eldest brother off of Lord Snow before he did any serious damage, but that wasn’t the most interesting thing…not really.Whenever there was a fight, the first thing Nymeria did was look in the opposite direction to see what was happening while everyone else was distracted.Sure enough, as soon as no one was looking, Lady Sansa’s mask dropped ever so slightly and she watched Lord Snow’s futile attempts to free himself from his half-nephew’s grip with morbid delight. _She's not really afraid of him, the youngest Bolton realized.  It w as all just an act.  Was it meant to fool Robin and Ramsay...or to fool us?Either way, she’s too dangerous to be permitted to leave Winterfell alive… _

_…_

As the members of House Bolton and House Arryn slowly made their way toward the Great Hall – where Lyanna was no doubt wondering what was taking everyone so long – Nymeria quietly darted off toward her chambers…grabbing Royce by his left arm and practically dragging him along with her. 

“What…wait…what’s going on?Why are we in here,” asked Royce once his sister had shut the door to her chambers. 

“Maybe I decided to try letting you be on top for once.” 

“REALLY?” 

“No, don’t be an idiot.” 

“Oh,” sighed Royce, frowning. 

“I need you to help me kill some people.You know more about poisons than I do and –” 

“And you want me to kill Lord Ramsay for you?Consider it done!”  

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Royce!” _I’d have to get my hands a lot dirtier, that’s for sure…_ “And I’d also like you to poison Lady Sansa.She’s a threat and has to be discreetly disposed –” 

“Do I have to?” 

“What?You don’t think poison is the best way to kill her?Well…umm…that’s okay; I trust you.If you think we should poison Lord Snow and kill Lady Sansa some other way then –” 

“No, I just…I mean…can’t I kill Robin instead?” 

“I’m sorry, but Lady Sansa has to go and that’s that.Why do you care anyway?” 

“I dunno, she’s really pretty and –” 

“GROSS!She’s older than our mother!” 

“I mean…you’re my younger sister, so it’s not really that different.” *SLAP* 

“HEY!What was that for?”*SLAP* 

“OWWW!Stop doing –” *SLAP* 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!I know I’m not allowed to tell you ‘no.’  WAIT!  Don't hit me again!  Put your hand down, we can talk about –" *SLAP*  "OWWW!  That one really hurt!"  

"Good."  

"Seven Hells, Nym, you know I’d never do that to you!  And it’s not like I care about that crazy woman more than you.” 

“You’d better not…”  

“What uncle Robin did to her was amazing though.” 

“Is that so?” _Keep digging your own grave…_

“It’s like he somehow found a way to mentally dominate her without making her into a Ree…I mean…without making her like uncle Brandon.She’s completely broken, but somehow she still has most of her free will left.I’d never let anyone do something like that to me!I sure wish I had a slave of my own though…someone who never talked back to me.” 

“I see.  You want an empty-headed doll who does whatever you say,” seethed the youngest Bolton, narrowing her pale, blue eyes. 

“Yeah, that'd be perfect...or at least someone who doesn’t talk back to…wait…I wasn’t talking about you, I swear!Please, don’t hurt AAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHH!Sss-stop…stop…knee-kneeing me…there,” gasped Royce as he collapsed to the ground. *KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* 

“IMother said to tell you and Royce to hurry up and come down to the Great Hall.So…uhh…hurry the fuck up,” shouted Randyll. 

“I’m…umm…looking for Visenya.”  

“You people are disgusting!And all three of your dogs are already in the Great Hall besides.” 

“We’re coming, right Royce?” 

“I…I don’t think…don’t know if…if I ever will again,” moaned the second youngest Bolton, plainly unable to lift himself up off the floor.  


	12. Randyll

The second eldest son of Domeric and Arya Bolton kept his eyes firmly shut even after he heard the doors to his sister’s chambers open. _Once was bad enough, if I see anything like that ever again I’ll have to gouge out my eyes._  

“Seven Hells, Randyll, you don’t have to do that,” sighed Nymeria.The second eldest Bolton cautiously opened his eyes just in time to see his youngest brother carefully waddle out of their sister’s chambers with his legs spread far apart.In truth, Royce looked as though he were struggling not to throw up. 

“What happened to him?” 

“Oh nothing, Royce and I just had a frank exchange of ideas, isn’t that right?” 

“Umm…right.Nym-Nymeria, I…I’m suh-suh-sorry,” wheezed Royce. 

“I see.In that case, I don’t forgive you.” 

“Will you both please stop talking this in front of me.Is that so much to ask?It’s bad enough that –” 

“Not now, Randyll, the grown ups are talking.” 

“I’m older than both of you.” 

“Whatever,” muttered the youngest Bolton, rolling her eyes. 

“I still…still…still hate you,” panted Royce. _Mother better not try to blame me for whatever’s making you walk like that!_

“Just not as much as Lady Sansa?” _Wait…she can’t mean…GROSS!_   

“I…I’m sorry!I didn’t…didn’t mean it!All I…all I said was –” 

“Are you insane?That woman is older than our mother, you bloody degenerate,” snapped Randyll. 

“That’s what I said,” exclaimed Nymeria.  

“Oh sure, go ahead and take her side.”  

“I’m wasn’t taking anyone’s side.” 

“You weren’t,” blurted the youngest Bolton, tilting her head in confusion. 

“NO!You’re both equally disgusting and –” 

“Wait, you think I’m no better than Royce?You can’t be serious.” 

“You’re right.In truth, I’ve always considered you to be an infinitely worse person than our brother ever was even on his worst days.Happy?” 

“Shut up!” 

“Yeah, shut up, Randyll!I’m a far worse person than our sister, right, Nym?What?What did I do?Why are you both looking at me like that?” 

“I worry about you sometimes,” sighed the youngest Bolton. 

“Is it the good kind of worrying,” asked Royce, speaking with far too much excitement as his sister sadly shook her head. 

“No.And I’m still wroth with you for what you said about Lady Sansa.”

“Think of it this way, Nym.Our aunt –” 

“Lyanna Mormont is our aunt in every way that matters.That lying turncloak from The Eyrie is NOT our kin as far as I’m concerned and she never will be either.I don’t want you calling her our aunt.It’s an insult to call someone a proper Lady, so that’s what we’ll call her: 'Lady Sansa.'Do you understand?” 

“Fine,” grumbled Royce, rolling his eyes.“My point is that aunt…I mean…Lady Sansa will probably die a broken, lonely madwoman, but you’re going to be Lord of Winterfell in a few years.” 

“I’m standing right here!”  
  
“Don’t worry, Randyll, I didn’t forget about you.You can go and live in The Dreadfort,” replied the second youngest Bolton, giving his brother a thumbs-up. _He’s never said anything like that to me before; none of my other kin want me around, so mayhaps I was simply a fool for letting myself believe Royce was any different…_ “And you won’t just be any old Lord either, Nym.You’re going to be the greatest one there ever was; so Lady Sansa’s really the one who should be jealous of you.” 

“I guess I still hate you,” sighed Nymeria, smiling at her youngest brother. _Great, now I won’t even be able to use the word "hate" anymore._ _Congratulations, you’ve both officially ruined hating people for me!_

“I’d rather die then spend even a single second in The Dreadfort and if either of you think I’m going to just give up my birthright should anything happen to our broth…wait a minute…neither of you are even listening to me, are you?” 

“I’m sorry, were you saying something?” 

“Royce, don’t be mean!Randyll’s our friend now.”

“He is?” 

“NO I’M NOT!I hate…I mean…I hate hate both of you, so why don’t you just shut your bloody mouths until we get to the Great Hall!Seven Hells, do I have to beg for silence?Just say the word and I will!”  

“We can talk about how much mother hate hates you instead if you’d like,” offered the youngest Bolton. 

“What part of ‘shut your bloody mouths’ don’t you understand?"  

“I understood what you said perfectly well, I just chose to ignore you.Anyway, I was thinking –” 

“No good ever came from you doing that.” 

“Did it ever occur to you that I might be trying to do something nice for you,” snapped Nymeria. 

“Nope.” 

“Well, I am!I wanted to try to help you think of a way to improve your relationship with our moth–” 

“Did I ask for your help,” growled Randyll as his younger brother shot him a death glare.“Yes or no?This isn’t a trick question.” 

“No, but I –” 

“You’ve treated me worse than any of my other kin and that’s saying a fucking lot.”  

”What’d I ever do to you?”

“YOU’RE THE REASON OUR MOTHER HATES ME!” 

“I’d be well within my rights never to forgive you for what you did to our family and if I weren’t such a good person then I’d have taken revenge on you a long time ago.”  
  
“WHAT I DID?And just what is it that I’m supposed to have done to our family.” 

“You are the reason uncle Rickon tried to murder me and almost stabbed mother.You are the reason he murdered uncle Brandon and made mother think it was her fault she couldn’t save him.Your lies turned uncle Rickon into a madman.But you are my brother and you hate Lord Snow near as much as I do besides.You’re also a Bolton of Winterfell.That’s why I want to give you one last chance to prove to me that you’re a good person who just made a really bad mistake as a child.People can change for the better and everyone deserves the chance to do so, even the worst of us…but I can only lead you to water; you’ll have to decide for yourself whether or not to take a drink.You’ve done terrible things, Randyll.Even when we were little, you were always much smarter than you let on, so I’m sure that deep down you know that I’m right.You were also my friend…I want to forgive you for and maybe even be friends again.We both know how much you want to have a mother again and I’m sure I could convince her to forgive you after a few weeks if I put my mind to it.You don’t have to thank me for my generosity, it comes naturally.”  

“Just like your humility?”  

“Yes, exactly; thank you for noticing!I was a little bit worried when aunt Lyanna said she thought I needed to be more humble, but it’s good to get a second opinion.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

“Umm…Nymeria, I think Randyll’s making fun of you.” 

“I think I’d notice if someone was making fun of me, Royce.You weren’t being sarcastic were you, Randyll?” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” _Idiot._

“Good.Anyway, I always do whatever I can to help my friends, just ask Benjen Mormont, Wenda Manderly, Erena Glover, Cley Magnar, Roose Cerwyn, or Bethany Tallhart if you don’t believe me.Normally I wouldn’t say this next part, but it’s probably necessary in your case since I don’t know if you’ve ever had any friends besides aunt Lyanna.Friendship is a two-way road; it’s not a game that you can cheat at whenever it becomes inconvenient to stick with someone.When I give someone my friendship and loyalty, I expect the same in return.If you want me to help you with mother, then I need to hear you swear by The Old Gods and The New that you will never try to betray me in any way, shape, or form...and not even The Old Gods will be able to help you if you break that promise.” 

“Are you done?”  

“You can talk now, if that’s what you’re asking.”  

“Listen to me very carefully, Nymeria, because if you don’t then I’ll –” 

“ROYCE, NO,” shouted the youngest Bolton. _What?He wasn’t even doing anything…was he?_

“But Randyll was about to threaten to –” 

“He wasn’t actually going try to hurt me.” 

“He'd better not…” _Whatever._  

“He won’t.Go on, Randyll.” 

“I don’t need your bloody permission to –” 

“Yes, yes, yes, you can talk whenever you want, now will you please hurry up and say whatever it is you were about to say before Royce interrupted you?We’re not far from the Great Hall.”  

“Fine.It’s simple enough, I think.I’ll suffer whatever bullshit our mother throws at me because she might still care about me deep down; she feels guilty about it and has been through each of the Seven Hells and back.Who knows what any of us would be like if we’d survived…whatever happened to her at The Twins.” 

“Mother never trusted you enough to share that with you, did she?”  

“Apparently not, but if she told you then you know even better than me that she…she just doesn’t handle guilt very well.That…that has to be it because otherwise…she can’t really hate…I mean…no, that IS the reason why she’s been so cruel to me.I can forgive mother because of what she’s been through as long as there’s still a chance that she doesn’t really mean it.Lyanna said that our mother still loves me and she wouldn’t lie about something like that…or at least, I don’t think she would.But you’re not like mother, you have no excuse for treating me like some puddle of wet horse shit you accidentally stepped in and –” 

“You tricked uncle Rickon into trying to murder me.That’s a pretty good excuse for doing a lot more than anything I’ve ever done to you, so mayhaps you should mind your tongue…”  

“RAMSAY TRICKED ME INTO LYING ABOUT YOU!” 

“What,” blurted the two youngest Boltons in perfect unison. 

“If that’s true then why didn’t you just tell mother?Everyone would’ve believed you and –” 

“The bastard whispered that he’d skin me alive if I said anything while everyone else was busy trying to keep Rickon from killing you…or just watching in our grandfather’s case.  He told me he’d heard you say horrible things about our grandmother’s death and was worried that mother wouldn’t believe him even though it was really important for her to know what had happened.He said that I could help her by pretending that I’d heard you say those things and that mother would teach you to be respectful of the dead.” 

“And you believed him?”

“I was seven years old; I didn’t know any better.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything after I helped…I mean…after Lord Snow escaped from the dungeons,” asked Royce, nervously glancing at his sister before letting out a sigh of relief once it became plain that she hadn’t heard his question. 

“Mother blames herself for whatever happened at The Twins.She blames herself for what happened to uncle Brandon and uncle Rickon.She blames herself for whatever Lord Arryn did to aunt Sansa too, most like.She blames herself for every bad thing that ever happened to anyone she ever cared about, most like.I don’t know why she chooses to live her life that way, but I do know that if she ever found out she’d spent years hating her own son because she believed one Lord Snow’s lies, it would destroy her and…SHIT!Now look what you made me do!Neither of you can ever speak a word of this to anyone.” 

“We won’t say a word, will we, Royce?ROYCE?” 

“Oh…umm…right, not a word.I swear it by The Old Gods.” 

“You don’t need to make him swear by The New Gods since they’re not real,” added Nymeria.“And "I saw how angry you were when you attacked that lying bastard in the courtyard, so I…I believe you and I’m sorry for how I treated you in the years since uncle Rickon attacked me.A good Lord must needs admit when they’re wrong and I was wrong about you.You’re a good person, most like, and I’m glad that you’re my broth…Royce Bolton, if you roll your eyes at me one more time…” 

“Randyll’s not the greatest person ever to set foot on Westeros.You know that, right, Nym?  You shouldn't assume he’s some sort of great person; some people do really creepy things when no one else is around,” muttered Royce, rolling his eyes a second time.  

“I mean it!” 

“Sorry, it…umm…won’t happen again.” 

“Good.Now where was I?Oh, right!I never understood why you would’ve wanted me dead since we always got along so well before that, but we can start over now.You’re doing a great thing for our mother and I hope we can be friends again going forward.I’m sorry for how I treated you though; I didn’t know what Lord Snow did.” 

“Do you really mean that, Nym,” asked Randyll.  

“Yes, I swear it by The Old Gods and The New.” 

“Good.I don’t forgive you.”  

“Wait…what do you mean?” 

“I mean that it’s all well and good for you to apologize for being such a cunt to me for so many years, but –” 

“HEY!Don’t call me a –” 

“Like I said, I acknowledge your apology.I believe that it is sincere.I understand that you didn’t know that Lord Snow had tricked me.I know that you want to be friends like we used to be before uncle Rickon attacked you.I am well aware that you feel guilty about how you’ve treated me.I do not forgive you and I never will.” _Let’s see how you like it when someone treats you like shit for something that wasn’t your fault…_   

“See, Nymeria?I told you Randyll wasn’t worth the time it takes to speak to him.” _Well fuck you too, Royce.How could I have ever thought that little shit was the one person in our family whom I would always be able to depend upon?_ “He’s just mad because our mother will never love him.Nym?Nymeria?Are you okay?Nym?” 

“But that’s…wrong,” mumbled the youngest Bolton.“I’ve never misjudged someone before, but I said I was sorry and admitted my mistake.You’re still my brother, Randyll, so…so you should forgive me since I didn’t try to kill you or anything like that.”Randyll gave an overly dramatic yawn, just as his sister had done so many times in the past to indicate her complete and utter disinterest in what he was saying. 

“Mayhaps...and yet I still don’t forgive you.  Funny how that works.” _I’m not sinking to her level; after all the shit I’ve taken from mother over the years, I’ve earned the right not to just forgive and forget when someone who has treated me like crap for something that wasn’t my fault tries to apologize._   

“But I didn’t…I would never hurt my own kin badly enough for it to be unforgivable unless there was truly no other choice…at least, not on purpose.” 

“How about when you said that our mother regretted bringing me into the world?And it never occurred to you that I probably didn’t just wake up one day and decide to turn our uncle into a madman who would try to murder you?  We've known each other our entire lives, does that sound like me, Nym?I don’t know what’s worse, that you were too stupid to ask yourself that question or the way you’ve treated me since.  You were supposed to be my friend and you assumed that I had tried to become a kinslayer without a second thought.Why would I ever forgive you for that?”  
  
“I was seven years old when my own uncle tried to murder me because of something you falsely accused me of saying.How was I supposed to know –” 

“We’re almost at the Great Hall, so I’m only going to say this once.I don't care that you’re sorry.I don’t care where you are or what you do either.  In truth, I don't even want to know anything about you, so long as you're alive.  Whatever else you may be, you're still my sister and you are a Bolton of Winterfell, but my interest in whatever you have to say begins and ends there.  Do you understand?” _This is starting not feel as good as I’d imagined…wait a minute…that’s what mother said to me yesterday.What am I doing?She’s still my sister and I could hurt her the same way mother hurt me.No, I…I just needed to get that out of my system.I had every right to talk to Nymeria that way.Little sister or not, she’s always been a manipulative little shit.I don’t know how mother and Lyanna don’t realize what Nymeria is, but I do.And if she feels guilty enough to finally grow a conscience after this then I’ll have done her a great service._

“I…I understand.What you’re say-saying is that *sniff* is that I’m dead to you and *sniff* and *sniff* and I *sniff* I just…I didn't know...” _No!Don’t you DARE start crying.We both know perfectly well that you can fake cry oceans of tears on demand in your sleep.That’s not going to work on me just because I always feel like a terrible person whenever I say something that causes another person to start crying.I know I didn’t really hurt you.Please, just…just stop crying.I don’t feel badly about what I said.I mean…maybe a little bit, but…NO!I’ve known you my whole life; I can tell that you’re faking.That may work with mother, but little sister or not; you’ve still been the bane of my existence for years.I mean…maybe I didn’t need to be quite so hard on you, but…you’re not...you're not going to guilt me into forgiving you for how you’ve treated me._

“It’s okay, I...umm…I take back what I said,” muttered Randyll.   _Seven Hells, why can't I be a prick to someone who I don't like without feeling like a terrible person?  Just once?  Why do I always have to be the bigger man?_  

“You *sniff* you’re just *sniff* saying that to *sniff* to make *sniff* to make me feel better.I’m a terrible person and *sniff* and *sniff* and I should go to *sniff* go *sniff* go to my *sniff* my chambers and *sniff* and *sniff* and cut my throat.You’d all be better *sniff* better off if I was *sniff* if *sniff* if I had never been born,” wailed Nymeria.   _We both know full well that you'd never kill yourself.  That's a terrible thing to say and...but what if I'm wrong?  With my luck she'll actually do it and mother would turn into some sort of dead-eyed, drooling half-wit if Nymeria ever took her own life, most like.  It must be nice for father and Robar not to ever worry about how their actions could effect other people._

“Stop crying, this isn’t fair.Didn’t we talk about this already?Okay, fine.I forgive you and we…umm…we can be friends again.I swear it by the Old Gods and the New.” _Gods damn it!_   

“I never meant to be a *sniff* a bad person.I’m suh-suh-sorry, Randyll, I just *sniff* I didn’t mean it!Please don’t *sniff don’t *sniff* don’t hate me!I wish *sniff* I wish I was dead,” sobbed the youngest Bolton.  
  
“You…made…Nymeria…cry,” seethed Royce through clenched teeth, his brown eyes burning with a murderous rage that would’ve made his older brother look away were it safe to do so. _She’s manipulating both of us right now, you idiot.At least I understand what’s going on…for all the good it’s doing me.Nymeria knows full well that if she keeps crying long enough I’m going to end up forgiving her on the off chance that I might be wrong about what’s going on right now._ _Meanwhile, you’ll try to do something awful to me, so she’ll get revenge on me for all the things I said to her earlier._

“Listen, Nym, I…I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”  


“Not yet, you’re not,” muttered Royce.  

“I said I was sorry, now will you stop crying?Nymeria?Nym?Please?Look, you’re a good person and…umm…none of this was your fault, okay?Please, just…just stop crying, okay?” _I hope you know that I know exactly what you’re doing even if it worked.I’m not Royce…_

“That’s okay, Randyll; I *sniff* I accept your apology.Royce, Randyll is my friend now, so I expect you not to hurt him.”  

“Whatever.” 

“Well, I’m hungry, so I guess we should get over to the Great Hall.And mother is going to need our help besides,” the youngest Bolton added cheerfully, wiping away the last of her tears.   

“Umm…right,” mumbled Randyll. _Wait a minute…how the Seven Hells did I end up apologizing to you?I hate my life!_


	13. Arya

_Please don’t do anything stupid, Lyanna.Just because I lost my temper in the courtyard doesn’t mean you have to do it too.I made a fool of myself and even if it felt good to make Robin wroth with me, that doesn’t mean it was the right thing to do.Robar was right to intervene even if he was cruel about it.   I can’t let Robin drag me down to his level like that…no matter what he did to Sansa.He was just using her to keep me off balance.  I didn't listen when Domeric warned me this might happen and I set a terrible example for Nymeria and Randyll besides.Nym has always struggled with her temper when she’s worried about people she cares about and Randyll even attacked Lord Snow.He never would’ve done that if I had stayed calm, most like.The Arryns could’ve accused us of breaking the guest right if they’d thought of it.I swore on mother and Robb’s graves that I’d never give anyone cause to say that House Bolton violated the guest right ever again.We…we’re nothing like the Freys, so I didn’t betray anyone by becoming a Bolton…not really.Seven Hells, can’t you just stop looking at him that way,_ Arya silently pleaded as her best friend’s eyes burned with tranquil fury. 

“Are you going to answer me or not,” the Lady of Bear Island growled through clenched teeth. 

“Fine, but you’re no fun at all.Nope, nope, nopity noper-dopersville!I’m glad you weren’t my mom, you’re mean and not nice at all.Do you like animals, Lyanna bear lady?I like animals because they’re fury and fun and…umm…lots and lots of fury fun.But not cats because they’re mean old poopyfaces.Do bear people like cats, Lady Mormont?Look, Lyanna bear lady!The Boltons have a big doggy with floppy ears, but not like a bunny rabbit’s ears.I like bunny rabbits because they go hop, hop, hop like how your family went hop, hop, hop away from bear people island,” Robin cheerfully added.“Oops, I forgot, Lyanna bear lady's whole family is al l dead and…well…not all of them…or maybe…umm…what did the one-eyed man say happened to them.Sorry, silly bear lady, I forget whether or not I remember what happened to your dumb old bear family.”  _D_ _oes Robin always act like a completely different person depending on who he’s talking to?He didn’t blow spit bubbles, have trouble focusing, or ignore Sansa when he was talking to me._ Arya shuddered.The strangest part was that there didn’t seem to be any strategic advantage to be gained or lost from the King of The Vale’s actions; it was as though he genuinely couldn’t stop himself from adopting whatever personality he thought would most upset whomever he was speaking to at any given moment. 

“Did the Iron Born tell you what happened to my mother and sisters or not,” growled the Lady of Bear Island through clenched teeth, rising from her seat in anger. 

“Oh right, the bear people from House Moron, I remember –” 

“Mormont!Are you sure that –”  
  
“Right, the not fuzzy bear ladies.The dead eyepatch man from Pyke…umm…Urine Greyjoy, that’s the one!He was silly and told lots of really fun stories.I miss him,” sighed the King of The Vale.“He told me what happened to your family.” 

“Don’t listen to him,” blurted the Queen of The North.  

“Great, tell me later,” grunted Lyanna, plainly having every intention of completely ignoring any words which came from somewhere other than Robin Arryn’s drool-drenched mouth.Arya glanced nervously at Domeric, but the King of The North simply shrugged his shoulders. _Fine.You were right about it being a bad idea to let Lyanna come to Winterfell to ask Robin if he knew what happened to her family, now will you please help me figure out a way to calm her down before she tries to kill the little shit?  No, of course not.  As usual, you're just going to sit on your arse while I figure out a way to calm everyone down before they make a mistake that can't be fixed._

“Whatever Lord Arryn's going to say isn’t even true, most like.  He is just going to try to get you so angry that you lose your temper and do something stupid.  Think about it, Lyanna; why would he even ask the Iron Born about what happened to your family?  What Lord Arryn's saying doesn’t make any sense.  And all of the Greyjoys dead by the time –”  

“I never asked you, so why don’t you just shut up and mind your own business!  Here's an idea, Your Grace: why don't you worry about your family and I'll worry about mine."  Arya frowned.   _She's never called me Your Grace before..._    

"Lyanna, I was only trying to –"  

"I don't want your help; what I DO want is to know what happened to my mother and my sisters.  This could be my only chance to find out and I will not let you or anyone else ruin it for me.  Just stay out of my way and go...go flay a Stark or whatever you people do!"  Suddenly, the Lady of Bear Island's eyes grew wide with fear as she realized what she had just said.  It wasn't just fear though...not really.  Even a blind man could see the guilt and self-loathing that was rapidly spreading across Lyanna's face like wildfire.  "Wait...I mean, I…I’m sorry, Arya.  I...I didn't mean it!  I just –” 

“It’s okay, I...I’m not wroth with you, but Lord Arryn is just trying to get a reaction from you because he’s bored.Lord Bolton did that sort of thing all the time and –” 

“And you would never dream of doing such a thing to me when you’re bored,” muttered Domeric.  _I know y_ _ou’re not going to be any help, but can you at least try not to create new problems?  Please?_

“I'm sorry, I...I didn't mean any of that.  It's just...I...I saw the Iron Born kidnap my mother and sisters; I could hear them dragging my family away kicking and screaming while I was hiding.  I wanted to save them, but I –"  

"Don't worry, there's nothing to forgive.  I know the feeling better than anyone else in The North, most like," sighed Arya.    

"But I –"  

"When I'm wroth with you, you'll know.  I promise, now why don't we all take a minute to calm –"  

"You said I could come to Winterfell to ask your sister and your good-brother if they heard anything.  I need –” 

“I know that you think you need to hear this, but you have to trust me.You don’t want to know; I…I’m glad Lord Bolton never told me exactly what happened at The Twins,” whispered the Queen of The North. 

“Before I married Beren Tallhart, you were the closest thing to family I had.You’ve always been there for me and I trust you more than anyone else in Westeros.In truth, you’ve been a sister to me in every way that matters.”  

“But?” 

“But I…I’m asking you as a friend not to get in the way.  I need to know what happened to my family.Please, I just…I need to know.”Arya nodded, bit her lip, and prayed that the rest of her children would return to the Great Hall so that the peace negotiations could begin before Lord Arryn had a chance to cause Lyanna any more pain.   
  
“BOOORRRRING,” groaned Robin.“Anywho, I’ll tell you what happened to your mother and sisters, but you have to come over here and…wait…are you sure you want to know?I like your silly grumpy faces and what happened to your family was not very nice…” 

“Robin, that’s –” 

“Were you about to say ‘that’s enough,’ Sansa?Are you trying to make me have Lord Ramsay punish our son again while you watch because you were bad?”The Queen of The Vale shook her head frantically as a cruel smile spread across Lord Arryn’s face.“Good,” growled the King of The Vale. _If you hadn’t eaten our bread and salt…_

“It’s okay, Lady Sansa.I can take care of myself,” sighed the Lady of Bear Island as she cautiously approached the King of The Vale.With every step, Lyanna looked less like the strong woman whom Arya had long considered her closest friend and more like the sad, lonely little girl whom she had taken under her wing so many years ago. 

“I don’t wanna shout you’re far away and…umm…far rhymes with the letter R!Not Fuzzy Bear Lady, if you want to hear about your mommy and sisters then you need to come a lot closer.My screaming voice is awful tired from when Scarface was telling mean lies about how tall I am.”Lyanna did as Lord Arryn asked and the giggling manchild began happily clapping his hands.  
  
“Urine Greyjoy, the one-eyed story man, he…umm…he told me that all except the youngest of your sisters were salt wives.That means they were raped to death forever and ever and ever and ever and ever…even after they were dead.Do you like the word ‘ever?’I like the word ‘ever’ because it’s a good word that can fly right off the tongue like a feather and…hmm…excuse me, not fuzzy bear lady.What does ‘rape’ actually mean?  Anywho, the one-eyed story man said your sisters screamed and cried an awful lot.  Then, one by one, they all stopped moving...but the Iron Born didn't stop for hours after that.  Urine Greyjoy said your salt wife bear sisters also had to be beaten before they could be trusted to do as they were bid and I get why that’d make someone upset, but could you think about the word ‘rape’ and then explain what it means?I’m really confuzzled and I want to understand what happened to your sisters.  I didn't know you could do that to a dead –”  

“OKAY!I mean, that…that's enough.  What about Jorelle and my mother?What happened to them?” 

“What’s a ‘Jorelle?’” 

“Jory, she was the youngest of my older sisters,” whimpered the Lady of Bear Island.As tears streamed down the poor woman’s cheeks, it occurred to Arya this must have been how she reacted when Lord Bolton told her that he had helped the Freys kill her mother and brother at the Red Wedding.In truth, that moment was now a blur, but the look on her friend’s face reminded the Queen of The North of the bitter sting of salty tears in the eyes of a child who would never forgive herself for failing to protect those she loved. _I’m sorry, Lyanna, I…I failed my old family, but I really thought I could keep you from becoming...broken like me.I’m sorry, I just…please don’t hate yourself for this.It’s not like The Twins!That was my fault; Lord Bolton said…he said mother and Robb were dead because of me.I did it!It was all my fault!You were just a scared little girl who didn’t know any better.Please don’t hate yourself for surviving; you don’t deserve to go through life feeling the way I do!_

“Oh right, Urine Greyjoy said that he was about to rape her himself, but then your mother begged him to take her instead…so he did.He said she squealed like a pig and moaned like a whore, but that’s silly because everyone knows pigs don't squeal.  They go oink, oink, oink.Then the silly urine man had his men chain your mother to a wall so she could watch him rape your littlest bear sister anyway, whatever that means.The one-eyed man said he cut your youngest big sister's throat because…because…umm…OH!I KNOW!Because she was a bad lay which must mean it was uncomfortable laying on top of her.Anywho, he said your mother grabbed a knife and killed herself because she…she…I’m sorry, I can’t…haha…ha…HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!I don’t know what happened to your stupid HAHAHAHAHA your stupid bear family, but the look on your face is so silly!OH GOOD!I like how your dumb bear mouth is hanging open like that!HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!Make more funny angry faces, please!  More!  More!  More!If you could see the look on your –” 

“LYANNA, NO,” shouted Arya, the moment she saw her friend’s left hand dart towards one of the knives by Robin’s seat at the table.  

“But…but he –”  

“He's not worth it.  Stop and just…just take a deep breath and step away from Lord Arryn.Think about what you’re doing, Lyanna.”Suddenly, the Lady of Bear Island dropped the knife and – plainly realizing what she’d been about to do – staggered backwards.In truth, she looked as though she were about to throw up.  

“I’m sorry, I…I don’t know what hap-happened.That…that wasn’t me.I was just…he said...and I...I couldn’t even hear myself think.I was so angry and…and then I…I need to go...go think or…something.I’ll be back, I…I don’t feel…I think I’m going to be sick,” groaned Lyanna as she slowly staggered out of the Great Hall.In truth, the poor woman sounded like she was in a state of shock.  

“HEY, you ruined my game, Scarface!I had a knife all ready and everything,” whined Robin.“I wanted to make the dumb bear lady fly for being so boring…”  

“The only reason I haven’t sent you flying out a window is that you ate our bread and salt.What makes you think I’d ever let you lay a hand on –”  

“I fear Lord Arryn has the right of it.He would not be violating the guest right were he to kill Lady Mormont in self-defense,” said Domeric in a voice dripping with cold contempt.In truth, the Queen of The North was too tired to argue.  Arya glanced at her sister who was already downing yet another goblet’s worth of wine and decided that a few sips couldn’t hurt given that Robin had refused to talk about anything productive until every Bolton arrived.No sooner had the Queen of The North begun pouring herself some wine then Sansa threw her goblet across the table and sent Arya’s flying off the table.  

“HEY!What was that for?”For her part, Sansa didn’t respond or even acknowledge her sister’s words in any way other than looking down at the table in shame.  Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall swung open and Arya let out a sigh of relief as her three youngest children entered the room and made their way to their usual seats.  

“Where is aunt Lyanna,” asked Nym with more than a little disappointment. 

“We were playing fun and games, Lady Nymeria.The silly bear lady lost and left the room after your mother spoiled everything.  Scarface is a stupid scar-faced cheater,” grumbled Robin.  For her part, the youngest Bolton silently scowled, plainly fighting a losing battle to hide her growing frustration with her uncle.  

“What's wrong, Lady Nymeria?  Why do you look so annoyed, Lady Nymeria?  Is it because you hate being called 'Lady Nymeria,' Lady Nymeria?  Why don't you like being called 'Lady Nymeria,' Lady Nymeria.  Are you a boy?” 

“I’m a woman grown, but I’m going to be a lord someday.  You'll always be a dwarf though.” 

“DON'T CALL ME A DWARF, YOU STUPID...I mean...umm...that’s dumb and you still have a dumb horseface.You’re dumb, Lady Nymeria the horse-faced freak who reeks.” _Leave her alone!_

“If you think I’m going lose my temper just because you call me –”  

“You’re dumb because you don’t realize that you’re going to grow up to be a proper little lady whether you like it or not…OR mayhaps you do realize it and are just afraid to admit it.I KNOW! You can come back to The Eyrie with Sansa and me.What would your father do if I told him all he had to do to ensure that there would be peace between The Vale and The North was to betroth you to my son so you could grow up to be juuuuuuuuuuust like Sansa.  Yes, yes, yes, I know, he loves you far to much to ever dream of doing such a thing.  And you've never told any lies that might make him wroth with you if he knew about them beisdes.” _At least Domeric already promised not to wed our children to anyone without my permission.How does Robin know so much about us anyway?Even if he has a spy in Winterfell, the servants wouldn’t know that Domeric hates Nym, most like.  And they certainly wouldn't...no one else knows about that.Royce is plainly too angry at Robin to even form words, so it probably wasn’t him.Robar hates Nymeria and me, but that doesn’t mean he’s a turncloak.It was Ramsay, most like.   Lord Snow probably told Robin everything he knew about us.  I'll deal with that bastard later; Nymeria needs me right now!_All the color drained from the youngest Bolton’s face as she slowly turned her head toward her father. 

“It’s okay, mother would never let him –” 

“Not now, Royce!Father, you…you wouldn’t –” 

“I assure you that I would gladly take Lord Arryn up on his generous offer were the decision mine.  In truth, I would let him have you for free.  The North would be better off without you, I think."   _Seven Hells, you don’t have to drag it out like that!Why can’t you just tell her that we’d never do that to you?We both know you’re not going to betroth her to anyone in The Vale and I’d never let you do that to Nym besides._  "If you truly wish to help your kin, I fear it would be best for you to simply open a window and...taking a deep breath.  The...err...breeze will be...would be quite relaxing, I think," mumbled Domeric, crumbling in his seat like wet paper once he noticed that his wife was very quietly stabbing the bottom side of the table with her knife.   _Go on, you bald bastard, tell our daughter to jump out a window.  Tell her to kill herself when she's scared and see what happens..._  

“But you…you can’t…I mean…please, I…I don’t want –”  

“It’s not your father’s decision,” Arya gently added, forcing herself to stay calm for her daughter’s sake. 

“But he said –”

“Listen to me very carefully, Nymeria.I promise that no one is going to send you to The Eyrie.Do you understand?All that matters is what I think and I would NEVER force you to wed someone against your will or sell you to The Arryns.  What does it mean if I promise something won't happen?”    
  
"That it *sniff* that it won't happen."  

“Less talking, more fighting,” whined the King of The Vale. _He must act like a completely different person at The Eyrie, else he’d have been overthrown a long time ago.The only reason House Bolton still rules The North is that Domeric and I realized what Lord Bolton meant when he said a king should see to it that he rules over a peaceful land and a quiet people._  

“It matters not at all," added Domeric, plainly making a futile effort to regain some semblance of his dignity.  "You should consider yourself fortunate that arranging marriages is women’s work as it’s the only reason I’m leaving the decision to your mother, I think.”Nymeria let out an audible sigh of relief and Robin turned his attention his to the King of The North. 

“Whatever.  In that case, there one other possibility,” said Lord Arryn as his slobber-stained lips curled upward into a mischeveous smirk.  

“And what might that be,” sighed the King of The North.  

“I like playing fun and games with your family lots and lots.  You all get so silly when you're mad.  Sansa and I will stay at Winterfell for a week and during that time, you and your dumb family will wait on us hand-and-foot.If you all can do that without losing your tempers and trying to hurt me even once then in one week’s time you have my word that there will be peace between The Vale and The North.I swear it by the Old Gods and The New.However, a majority of your family must needs agree to this, else there will be no peace.These are my final terms, Lord Bolton; you and your kin had best discuss them amongst yourselves.  You...umm...wait...uhh...you have to...hold on...do it in front of me.  Yeah, that's it!  You have to decide in front of me, else the six of you would start fighting and I wouldn't be there to watch.  I don't care whether we make peace today or go to war tomorrow.  Either way, I'm going to find a way to play fun and games with your House.  Also, what would your father think of the fact that you pretend to be a King while letting your Stark wife rule The North through you?” 

“A week isn’t too long, I think,” grumbled Domeric, plainly having no intention of acknowledging the King of The Vale. 

"Father's right," the youngest Bolton added, much to the surprise of both her parents.

“Why would you trust Lord Arryn to keep his word?”  

“I don’t trust him, mother, but that doesn’t matter.If there’s even a chance this could lead to peace between The North and The Vale then we have to try,” insisted Nymeria.“Think of how many innocent lives would be lost if there’s another war.We have a chance to save them and the smallfolk will be the ones who suffer most if there’s a war besides.They always are…” _I knew I raised her well.Nymeria, she…she’s the best thing I ever made.No matter who else I failed, I was able to save her and nothing can ever change that.She’s what I could…what I should have been…_  

“I don’t want Lord Arryn roaming around Winterfell; it’s not safe.He could just be doing this to buy himself time to find an excuse to go to war.And the smallfolk aren’t even people beside-OWWW,” yelped Royce as his sister punched him in the arm. 

‘Nymeria, your father and I are treating you like an adult by letting you participate in this meeting, but if you act like a child instead of a woman grown then we will treat you like one.I’d prefer that you didn’t make force me to tell Ben Bones not to let you work with any of the hounds for two weeks, but –”  

“YOU CAN’T!It would ruin their training routine and…umm…I mean…I’m really sorry for punching you, Royce.I…I don’t know what I was thinking!Even though I didn’t mean to hurt you, I wasn’t behaving like a Bolton of Winterfell and it was completely unacceptable, especially when we are being visited by important guests.” _Close enough.I’d prefer that you actually meant it, but Lord Bolt…Lord…Lord Bolton said…he said that a wise man chooses his battles.I…I can’t think about that right now.And I had no choice besides.It…it was to protect…it was the only way…I had to do it!It doesn’t even matter anymore…not really._ Randyll rolled his eyes in disgust while Robar remained as quite as ever…which isn’t to say that he didn’t make his thoughts abundantly clear to everyone in the room.While the heir to The North had hardly said a word since he sat down in his seat, the bitter scowl which appeared on his face whenever he looked at anyone other than Domeric and Sansa spoke volumes.Even Visenya yawned and walked away from her resting place by Nymeria’s chair as if the bloodhound were trying to signal its displeasure with its owner’s insincerity. 

“That’s okay, Nym, what I meant to say was that you and father have the right of it.If putting up with Lord Arryn for a week will help save innocent lives, then there’s nothing more to discuss.” _Is Domeric smiling because I threatened to punish Nymeria or because he’s too stupid to realize neither of them mean a word they’re saying?_  

“Seven Hells, can we please return to the matter at hand?Father’s bannermen will be furious if we permit the Arryns to remain in Winterfell and endure a week’s worth of this madness.We’d be playing servants to a drooling madman and risking a civil war in the process.” 

“But Randyll, think of the smallfolk!Their suffer–” 

“It would be impressive enough if Nym had simply taught one of her dogs to walk on two legs, but you can talk too.”  

“Piss off!”  

“Royce Bolton!Apologize to your brother right this minute,” snapped Arya.

“Royce was supposed to be a nice craven, not a mean one,” whined Robin.  

“Who cares if Royce isn’t as big*hic* big a man as you *hic* were expecting?You can’t *hic* believe every tall-tale you *hic* hear about them,” replied Sansa, as she grabbed her husband’s goblet and proceeded to pour herself even more wine. _Is she drunk?Already?How is that even possible?_  

“What did you say,” growled the King of The Vale.  

“Don’t *hic* get shorter *hic* shh-shh-short with *hic* with me, Robert.”By now, the three youngest Boltons had begun laughing uncontrollably and even Robar briefly allowed himself a small smile.However, the Queen of The North bit her lip and prayed her sister would come to her senses before it was too late. _Robin’s going to hurt you for this, most like.And you’re not as good at pretending to be drunk as you think you are besides._   

“My name is Robin.And I don’t like this game either; it’s very mean and not nice at all!” 

“I for-forgot about your *hic* heightened sense-sensuh *hic* sensitivity to words like 'dwarf,' 'small,' ' short,' 'tiny,' and –” 

“You’d BETTER be drunk right now because if you’re not –” 

“Only a little *hic* bit.”  

“Bad things happen to people who talk about me this way, mother Sansa…” _Seven Hells, now I have to distract him before Sansa gets herself killed._

“ANYWAY,” exclaimed Arya, “I want to know what Robar thinks of Lord Arryn’s proposal.” 

“In truth, my interest in my uncle’s proposal is dwarfed by –” 

“SHUT UP!I hate all of you!I hate you!This…is…not…FUNNY,” screamed Robin.

“While I couldn’t care less whether or not the Arryns stay here or leave, I can promise you that SweetRobin will be treated with as much respect as he shown us if he chooses to remain in Winterfell for a week.” 

“You’re stupid,” hissed the King of The Vale. 

“Don’t call me –” 

“Can I call you dumb?” 

“Mind your tongue, you pusillanimous piece of –” 

“Look at you with your fancy five dragon words.Hmm…now how would you know big kid words that no one ever uses?I KNOW!You snuck into a library and made a list of big kid words to use so people wouldn’t think you’re dumb.Do you even know what ‘pusillanimous’ means?” 

“Shut up,” mumbled Robar. _This wasn’t what I had in mind, but at least Robin’s not going to kill Sansa.  Wait a minute...Ramsay can't be the turncloak!  Robar didn't start getting sensitive about being called "stupid" until the year after...after Ramsay disappeared.  If it was Ramsay, then Robin wouldn't have known that calling Robar "dumb" would upset him so much.  But that means it would have to be...one of them_ , Arya realized, biting her lip as she studied her four children.   _Please let it have been an accident or that one of them just believed some sort of Arryn lie.  As long as it wasn't on purpose..._

“That’s okay, I don’t either.Then again, I never had to use silly words to sound smart because I was afraid of what my siblings would do if they thought I was weak.”Arya was about to grab Domeric’s goblet when the King of The North – plainly having the same idea – filled it with wine and downed it in a single gulp. _I suppose if one of us needs to stay sober during this ordeal, it might as well be me._ Suddenly, the King of The North dropped his goblet and his pale, blue eyes grew wide with fear. 

“Something wrong…wine…can’t…can’t breathe.I…I can’t…burns,” wheezed Domeric.Somehow, the Queen of The North managed to remain calm just long enough to catch a glimpse of the initial reactions of everyone else in the room as her husband began clawing at his throat like a madman before finally collapsing to the ground.Randyll and Nymeria looked absolutely horrified, although only Randyll seemed to care that his father was dying right in front of him.Nymeria looked as though she’d just seen the Night’s King himself, but her eyes were fixed firmly upon her mother’s spilled goblet.The Queen of The North nearly let out an audible sigh of relief once she realized her daughter plainly had no part in what had happened.  

Robar was plainly very upset, but his eyes were closed and he’d plugged his ears…almost as though actually seeing Domeric die was more upsetting to him than the fact that his father had been murdered.Robin grabbed the goblet Sansa had taken from him, emptied it, and began carefully inspecting it.Sansa looked as though she didn’t know how to feel.In truth, Arya didn’t know how to feel either as her second eldest son raced past her, fell to his knees, and began weeping over a body that had grown as cold and lifeless as The Dreadfort…or rather, she didn’t know how to feel until she saw the look on her youngest son’s face.Royce’s brown eyes were glistening with childish curiosity and a small smile crept across his face as he watched Domeric take his final breaths.Arya shuddered. _If Royce did it then he probably would’ve been more careful, but what if…what if he decides he wants to try killing someone after this?I don’t care if he’s my son; I’ll die before I let Royce hurt any of his siblings!The rest of my children aren’t like him; they’re good people or…Nym and Randyll had nothing to do with this, at least.Robin looked terrified once he realized he could’ve died, so it probably wasn’t Sansa or him, but he could’ve been pretending._ _But that means would’ve had to have been Robar who murdered…and if it was him, then he’s still the King of The North unless I can prove…please, don’t let it be Robar._  

Arya looked at her dying husband’s purple face – it's features grotesquely contorted with pain – and then back at her children.For his part, Royce was now crying like a baby and in that moment, the Queen of The North realized that the rest of her children would never be safe while he remained at Winterfell. _I wonder if Royce would agree to spend the rest of his life at The Dreadfort if I let him start his own branch of House Bolton there._ Arya bit her lip and racked her brain for some sort of explanation for her husband’s death which didn’t involve her eldest son.  The answer hit the Queen of The North Sansa like a brick falling from the sky and it left her sick to her stomach.   _Sansa knocked away my goblet; she knew...  Robin and her murdered Domeric and they...they were going_ _to kill me.  Sansa almost...my own sister almost tried to kill me.  She didn't go through with it, but how could she even think about..._  Suddenly, the Queen of the North had a second realization, one which shook her to her core.   _They were with us the whole time and it couldn't have been the wine, else Sansa would be dead too.  They had help from someone else at Winterfell.  Someone had to have put the poison in Domeric and my goblets.  One of our children murdered him._   No matter who was responsible, however, one thing was certain: the King was dead.


	14. Robar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 314 A.C.

“You wanted to see me, Lord Bolton,” Robar mumbled as he cautiously entered the chambers of the most dangerous man in The North.The Lord of The Dreadfort was plainly doing his best to give his eldest grandson a warm, knowing smile, but the effect was to makecold, calculating, reptilian look even more dangerous than usual.If ever there was a man whose face was simply not meant to display affection or give comfort to the weary, then surely that man was Roose Bolton. _Why is every book in the room missing all of its pages?What’s the point of neatly lining up a bunch of empty book covers on the shelves.Focus!I can’t get distracted just because Lord Bolton had one of the servants wake me up really early in the morning._ _Mother warned me about this sort of thing.She said that Lord Bolton is only kind to people when he’s trying to trick them into doing something for him or is planning to hurt them really badly.What did I even do wrong?Mother already punished me for lying about going hunting with uncle Ramsay, but she’d never let Lord Bolton hurt me.And the punishment didn’t even involve me getting hurt besides.Not that it needed to…_ Robar shuddered. 

“Come now, there is no need for such formalities between us.We are kin, are we not?” 

“Yes, but –”  

“Very well.From now on, you shall refer to me in private as ‘grandfather.’I fear that we shall be forced continue with formalities when others are present.” _Mother also said he’s only nice to people when he’s planning to hurt them or wants something.Mother and Ramsay never agree on anything, but deep down, I think they’re both afraid of Lord Bolton.What if he wants to cut off one of my arms?_

“Whatever I did wrong; it wasn’t my fault…I mean…umm…Skinner did it!” 

“Did what?”  
  
“I don’t know, but whatever you’re wroth with me about, it was all his idea!” 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the Lord of The Dreadfort replied mildly.  

“Do you swear it by The Old Gods and The New?” 

“I suppose I should be flattered that you would take me at my word,” muttered Lord Bolton. 

“What do you mean?”  
  
“It matters not at all.You would know by now if I meant you harm, I think.” 

“I guess that makes sense, but if you’re not wroth with me then why did want to see me, Lord Bolt…I mean…grandfather?Uncle Ramsay said you’re only kind to people when you’re planning to do something terrible to them.” 

“Tell me, why do you trust my bast –” 

“Don’t call him that,” growled Robar. _Lord Bolton shouldn’t be calling uncle Ramsay a bastard!It’s bad enough when my parents and siblings do it, but at least they have reasons not to like Ramsay.He never did anything to Lord Bolton except curse at him and make a bunch of empty death threats._

“Mind your tongue.”  
  
“Fine, but…but you’d best mind yours too.”  

“Lord Snow has repeatedly betrayed you and yet you are plainly so desperate to receive a pat on the head from the fool that simply hearing him referred to as a ‘bastard’ is enough to make you forget yourself.This will not serve.And you will stop calling him ‘uncle Ramsay.” 

“I’m getting kind of bored, grandfather,” grumbled Robar. 

“It matters not at all.”  

“Can’t you just tell me why you sent for me so that I can try to get a little more sleep before we all have to get up to break our fasts?” _Wait a minute…why has Lord Bolton been letting me talk to him this way?Is he…he’s going to flay me?I could fight him off if I had to, but there would be guards and if I killed him then I’d either be executed or sent to The Wall.This isn’t the same as thinking about how proud uncle Ramsay would be of me if I killed him and there’s only one person in our House who deserves to die besides.If I’m going to take that sort of risk, then it…it should be to kill someone who actually deserves it.When I’m King, I’ll send Lord Bolton to The Wall; what he did to mother was cruel, but everyone in Winterfell has known worse.It’s not like Lord Bolton raped her; I’ve never even seen him threaten her.Father though…If he weren’t a Bolton, I’d have killed him myself…or I’d have at least asked uncle Ramsay to do it.Ramsay has more in common with Lord Bolton than Domeric does…not that they’d ever admit it.Wait a minute…what was I even talking to Lord Bolton about?Maybe if I just nod and speak politely, he won’t notice…_ The heir to The North tried to stay calm, but he could feel small drops of sweat beginning to dribble down his forehead. 

“I fear that you shall be King of The North once your father dies.In truth, I would prefer to be having this conversation with one of your brothers, but a man must needs work with the tools he has been given.You must needs be taught how to rule so that once the day comes when it is time for you to kill your father and take your rightful place among the Red Kings, you will be ready.” _That can’t be right!Even if I was allowed to kill father, Lord Bolton would never just come out and give me permission._

“I’m sorry, could you…umm…say that last part again, grandfather?I think I misheard you.” 

“Someday, the time will come for you to kill your father and before that day comes, I must needs teach you how to rule The North as a Bolton should.  Your father is not up to the task, I think.”  

“But I don’t actually want to kill –” 

“It has been plain for sometime that you wish him dead for one reason or another.Don’t insult my intelligence by denying that which we both know to be the truth.You won’t tell anyone – even Lord Snow – what we have discussed because you would not do anything to jeopardize an opportunity to do so.” 

“What if you’re wrong and I did tell someone?” 

“Mayhaps I should eliminate the risk entirely.” 

“No, I…I won’t tell anyone.” 

“See that your don’t.I suppose I should be grateful that your father has even proven to be an acceptable placeholder.The same could not have been said for my bastard had I been forced to legitimize him.As for your mother…well…I fear that she cannot be relied upon to uphold our House’s traditions in my absence.It matters not at all.One way or another, I shall make a proper Bolton out of you.And if you prove to be a slow learner…well…we all need adjustments from time to time.Ordinarily, I would never permit you to question me and during the War of The Five Kings, I learned all too well how dangerous it can be to indulge children your age that way.However, this one time, I shall permit you to ask any questions of me you please.After that, your lessons shall begin in earnest.You shall do as you are bid until I am dead and buried, I think.I trust that you will not require as many adjustments as your father…”At first, the Crown Prince of The North found himself unable to do anything except scratch his head in confusion as he struggled to process his grandfather’s words. _Would Lord Bolton really let me kill his own son for raping mother?I thought he did the same thing to uncle Ramsay’s mother…even if that wasn’t near as bad since she wasn’t highborn like my mother.That’s not a good excuse though; even if mother’s wrong about the smallfolk being no better or worse than the rest of us, she’s right that they’re people whose lives have some value.And not even the Iron Born deserve to be raped besides.When I’m king, I’m going to make rape punishable by death.No matter how much mother will hate it when I make uncle Ramsay and Randyll my two Hands, I know she’ll be proud of me for bringing an end to the days when a highborn raper would go unpunished so long as his victim was one of the smallfolk.I hope uncle Ramsay has seen the error of his ways by then…_ The heir to The North frowned and forced himself to focus on the matter at hand. __

_Lord Bolton wouldn’t be having this conversation with me unless he saw something in me, most like.Mayhaps I’m not as dumb as everybody thinks; I bet I could be really smart with Lord Bolt…I mean…with grandfather’s help.From now on, nobody will call me ‘stupid’ ever again,_ Robar decided, forcing himself not to smile in his grandfather’s presence. _I don’t have to be just like him in order to learn whatever it is that he wants to teach me.I can just pretend to agree with everything he says and only listen to the parts that make sense._

_Unless they’ve done something so bad that there is no choice other than to act – like raping a highborn lady – no good can come of complaining oneself with whatever cruel things other people happen to do since that will only make it harder to get along with them.And you can still try to help the victims when no one is looking besides.Wait a minute…Lord Bolton wouldn’t just let me kill his son for no reason even if he saw something special in me.This is either a trap or he has his own reason for wanting father dead and is just trying to trick me into doing his dirty work for him.I just figured that out all by myself.I feel smarter already!_

“Suppose…suppose I was willing to kill my father – which I’m not – why would you tell me that I could?What do you get out of this?” 

“You and your father are both members of House Bolton and as such, it would not serve for either of you to grow weak by meekly waiting for your forbearers to die peacefully in their beds as old men.There is a proper manner in which such things must needs be handled.Your father was always far too weak to ever try to end my life, much less do so successfully.I fear that it would not serve to let such foolishness go unpunished.In truth, you have always been weak in your way, but you may yet demonstrate a low cunning which could be molded into something that could pass for the mind of a Red King.And you will not blink when the time finally comes to put your father in the ground where he belongs, I think.”The Crown Prince of The North scratched his head. _That…doesn’t make any sense.Wouldn’t it be better if everyone in House Bolton worked together and instead of each firstborn son killing his father, we developed some cadet branches of House Bolton throughout The North?We’d have more allies that way and…well…anyway, I’m sure grandfather knows what he’s doing.He’s already thought of that, most like.Mayhaps part of being smart is pretending to understand what other smart people say without letting them know how confused you are; this could be good practice!_

“I understand.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Yes.Everything you just said made sense to me, grandfather.I do have a few questions though, but they’re not about what you were saying.” 

“Very well.” 

“Why does mother always act so…strange whenever you’re wroth with her?You’ve never threatened to hurt her, but I think she’s still afraid of you…only that’s not quite it.It’s like there’s something else going on whenever the two of you talk about…well…anything.” _I bet no one else ever noticed that mother acts like that around him.Uncle Ramsay will be proud of me when I tell him I figured that out on by own, most like.I’ll have to be careful how I say it though.I don’t want him to think I sit around all day thinking about people’s feelings.I’m a real man, not some pathetic craven like Royce._ If Lord Bolton was impressed by his eldest grandson’s keen insights, he showed no sign.Of course, that could mean anything since the Hand of The King plainly took great care to hide his true thoughts from friend and foe alike. _At least I don’t have to pretend to be like Skinner right now._

“There are only two people in Westeros who have known your mother longer than I have and there was a time when it seemed as though she might have transcended some of the universal failings of the weaker sex.She was your age, I think.I fear she has proven no different than the rest of her kind in the years since.” _I wonder what ‘transcended’ means?Lord Bolton probably doesn’t know either.People like uncle Ramsay and Skinner don’t use words like “transcended.”When I’m king, I should start using more words like that to convince my siblings and bannermen that I’m smart enough to thwart any treasonous schemes that might cross their minds.They’ll just assume I know what the words mean and if they do catch me using a word incorrectly, they’ll still be afraid to correct me since I’m the King of The North._

“I indulged your mother as much as I could when she was your age in hopes of encouraging her to prove herself worthy of the Bolton name,” continued the Lord of The Dreadfort.“It mattered not at all.It is known that all women are weak-willed fools who will always be slaves to their emotions and for that reason, I fear that your mother will always desperately look to me for a pat on the head.Belonging to the weaker sex is no less a disease than the bloody flux, I think.It makes cripples of those such as your mother who would otherwise have been strong and it makes those who were already weak – such as your sister – completely useless.In the end, Lady Arya mother proved herself no different from any other common broodmare and must needs be treated as such.” 

“My mother isn’t a broodmare!She’s the Queen of The North and a Bolt–” 

“She is still of the weaker sex, I think.” 

“I don’t care what she is!Arya is my mother and you can’t talk about her that way,” growled Robar, taking several steps toward his grandfather. 

“It matters not at all.  What does matter is that you give your loyalty far too freely and to the wrong people besides.  I fear you will require adjustments.  Consider yourself fortunate that my bastard has repeatedly betrayed you, else I would not be aware of the more pressing matters which must needs be addressed before I can make any adjustments to your person.”  _Wait a minute…_  

“That’s the third time you’ve said uncle Ramsay betrayed me.” 

“The fourth, I think.” 

“Right.I…I know he’d never do that, but if I can really ask about anything then I want to know why you keep saying that he betrayed me.I know he’d never do something like that or…I don’t think he would.I’m just…umm…just…I’m just curious.” _Seven Hells, even Royce can lie better than me._

“Tell me, how do you think I discovered that my bastard oft takes you hunting?” 

“How should I know?” 

“Think about it.”The Crown Prince of The North scratched his head for a moment and shrugged.For his part, the Lord of The Dreadfort started rubbing his forehead in frustration for some reason. 

“What?How am I supposed to know how you found out?I guess someone probably told you.Wait, it was Skinner, wasn’t it?” 

“No, it was not Skinner.”  

“But if it wasn’t Skinner then who…wait…why would Ramsay do that?” 

“The fool believes that I might permit him to replace your father as the King of The North if he can persuade me that none of my grandchildren will ever be worthy of the Bolton name.Your mother will also betray you one day, I think.Of course, I don’t expect you to believe me at this time.” _Good, because I don’t!_ “All I ask is that you pay careful attention to how she treats your sister and compare it to how she treats the rest of her children.Your mother has already decided which horse to back and wasted no time turning on your brother Randyll.Her youngest brother’s foolishness was little more than a convenient pretext, most like.I can assure you that she will come after either you or Royce once she has so thoroughly broken your brother’s spirit that he is no longer capable of challenging your sister.In truth, your mother has even betrayed her own younger brothers.I fear that such a person simply cannot be trusted.You would do well to disregard any advice or teachings she tries to poison your mind with, I think.There may soon come a day when she does something terrible to one of her kin and then you will know that I have the right of it.Of course, she’ll claim it was an ‘accident,’ that she was only trying to ‘help,’ that she feels horrid about her failure to ‘save’ her victim, or attempt to garner sympathy by babbling about how it was all her fault.Your mother might even shed enough lizard-lion tears to convince fools like your sister that her grief is genuine, but I fear we will both know the truth.” 

“And what ‘truth’ is that,” growled the heir to The North. _That can’t be true, mother isn’t like that!Father might be, but not her; she’s one of the only people in Winterfell who really cares about me…mayhaps the only one._

“That she is not to be trusted and will betray anyone – even her own kin – the moment it becomes politically expedient to do so.If this day never comes then you needn’t pay any mind to my words, but if it does come and your mother reacts as I have predicted, then mayhaps you’ll finally be able to see with your own eyes that you did not know her half so well as you thought.” 

“Fine, but that’s never going to happen.”  

“No doubt.I only ask that you remember my words if such a day ever comes.” 

“It won’t!And why are you even talking about mother anyway?”For a moment, Lord Bolton silently stared at his eldest grandson and the Crown Prince of The North quickly looked down at the floor as though doing so would allow him to escape from the old man’s pale, blue eyes. 

“It matters not at all.As for Lord Snow, he has oft told me that he believes you are helping the women he hunts escape from him.The fool plainly things that this will convince me that you have too much Stark blood to rule The North as a Red King should.In truth, adjustments are an unpredictable process which oft requires considerable trial and error.One way or another, you will eventually be ready to claim your rightful place among the Red Kings, I think.Thanks to your mother’s emotional warfare, I fear your brother Randyll is no longer strong enough to do anything more than silently resent your position within our House from the shadows, but Royce –” 

“Royce is a soft-minded craven, grandfather.He’s probably afraid of his own bloody shadow and will just need to be reminded of his place once I become king.Why should I be afraid of him?” _It’s really nice of Lord Bolton to tell me all of this.He’s probably not so bad once you get to know him.He’s being really helpful, so mayhaps he really is just trying to teach me how to become a good king…even if some of the advice is very strange.He’s wrong about Ramsay though…well…mayhaps what he said is true, but it’s probably best to ignore that part unless I see some sort of proof.At least there’s a way to test what he said about mother…_

“I will admit that your sister is plainly a corrupting influence upon the poor boy.I fear she has reduced him to little more than a soft-hearted fool who shares her delusions about that sibling can ever be more than an enemy within one’s own House.However, it has always been plain that Royce had the potential to become a Red King worthy of the Bolton name were he born before you.It matters not at all.After your father’s death, you shall become the next Red King.I will never know what could’ve made my bastard think that I would consider legitimizing him when none of my grandsons are dead and buried.Mayhaps if your sister were the only altern–”  

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”Robar spun around in surprise and almost tripped over his own feet in the process.However, the Lord of The Dreadfort simply let out a loud yawn as his granddaughter’s scream echoed through Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: In case it wasn't clear, Skinner is obviously Roose's source.


	15. Nymeria

“MMMMMPH!MMMPH!MMMMMPH!MMMMMMPH!”Nymeria tried to break free from her uncle, but it is known that madmen oft have a strength all their own and Rickon Stark was no exception.In truth, it was hard to believe that such a promising morning could have already taken so horrid a turn.The youngest Bolton had been planning to wish her eldest uncle good morning and see whether it would be possible to bring back whoever he was before being turned into “Reek” by tricking him into thinking that the Bastard of Bolton was dead.A carefully measured dash of milk of the poppy – stolen from Maester Qyburn’s stores and discreetly poured into Lord Snow’s goblet the previous night – was all it took to ensure that the bastard would not wake up until well into the afternoon. However, by the time Nym reached her eldest uncle’s chambers, the door was already open, Brandon Stark was lying motionless on his bed with his eyes closed, and Rickon was angrily swatting at a rat that kept trying to nibble on his brother’s face.The moment that Nymeria screamed, the youngest Stark flew at her like an arrow shooting through the sky, pinned her to the ground, and placed his right hand firmly over his niece’s mouth. 

“Stop fighting; I’m not even going to hurt you,” snarled the youngest Stark.“I wish I could flay all of you to death and hang your skins from the gates of Winterfell, but I can’t do that since I promised Queen Leech that I wouldn’t hurt you or any of the other evil, whispering monsters she brought into the world.See, there’s nothing to worry about!Now, if I let you go, can you please go find your traitor mother and tell her I freed Brandon and need to talk with her?I want to kill her for what she did to my House, but I can’t just go wandering around Winterfell and she probably has guards near her chambers right now besides.Do you promise not to scream if I remove my hand?”The youngest Bolton replied by biting her uncle’s right hand as hard as she could until he jerked it away.This time she was able to break free from the wild-eyed madman. 

“HEEEEELLLLLLLP!I…MMMPH!MMMPH!” 

“OWWWW!CUT IT OUT!Quit biting my hand when I cover your lying mouth, you bastard.You made me bleed this time; stupid Boltons.” 

“Leave me, uncle Brandon, and my mother alone.None of us ever did anything to you and –” 

“LIAR!You thought it was funny that my mother and my brother Robb were murdered at The Twins and –” 

“Randyll was lying, you idiot!Why would anyone find something like that funny?I wouldn’t joke about something like that even if it happened to Iron Islanders.And the Red Wedding was your brother’s fault besides.” _Please, Old Gods, don’t let uncle Brandon be dead.I finally figured out how to undo whatever Lord Snow did to him and my mother doesn’t deserve to see uncle Brandon like this besides.I just…someday I’m going to make The North a place where things like this, things like the Red Wedding, whatever happened to uncle Rickon, and the Iron Born attack on Bear Island will never happen again…or at least, not unless there is truly no other way.The North can’t go on like this and no one deserves to live this way besides.No one should have to spend every second wondering whether today is the day someone they care about will be taken from them.Not me, not my kin, not aunt Lyanna, not the smallfolk, not highborn Northerners from other Houses…not even the Wildlings.I can change The North, but you…you just have to give me a few more years.Please, Old Gods, just…just don’t let Uncle Brandon be dead.He could’ve been drugged or a really deep sleeper or…or…I don’t know!Just don’t let him be dead; my mother is the best person you’ve ever seen fit to put on Planetos, so why can’t you just leave her alone?She’s a good person and it’s not fair that such horrid things keep happening to people she cares about…and that goes for aunt Lyanna too!Why can’t you just pick on someone who deserves it like old man Roose or Lord Snow?It’s wrong and…well…time enough for that later.I’ll fix everything someday, but for now I need to figure out how this madman got free and make sure that he doesn’t hurt anyone else._  
  
“The Red Wedding was House Bolton’s fault. You and the Freys and no one else!” 

“I wasn’t even born when the Red Wedding happened and my mother wasn’t technically a member of House Bolton either.What did we ever do you?Lord Bolton, Lord Snow, and my father are the only ones who –” 

“You’re all Boltons; that’s enough,” seethed the youngest Stark in a voice as cold and bitter as the sound of a steel blade being slowly dragged across a stone floor.“Even if your evil brother really was lying, I’m sure you’ve done something to deserve having your head on a spike.There’s no such thing as a good Bolton and there never will be either; the only good leech is a crushed one laying dead beneath my foot.You all deserve to die, especially Queen Leech, but I gave you a chance to live by letting your run and bring your mother here.How did you repay me?You bit me twice when I tried to make you see reason.All you had to do was trade your mother’s life for yours, that’s what you people do.Leeches only betray each other if it means they’ll have a chance to do the kinslaying personally, is that the way of it?” 

“What?That doesn’t even make any sense.Listen, I don’t know why you hate me and your sister so –” 

“Arya’s not my sister anymore; she’s your mother.She made her choice and you know that as well as I do.” 

“Fine.I don’t know why you hate me and my mother so much or…or what caused you to go mad, but mayhaps there’s still a way we can help you.No one else knows about this yet and I’m sure this isn’t who you really are…you’re just not well, most like.You’ve got your whole life to get better.If uncle Brandon is still alive, then I’ll pretend that I tried letting you out of your –” 

“You can’t get Bran anymore!I saved him, just like the voices told me to,” Rickon declared with a smug smirk. _That doesn’t sound good…_  

“Is he alive?You didn’t hurt him…did you?” _Why haven’t any guards shown up yet?Did someone tell them to stay away from this room?No, that doesn’t make any sense.There’s no one who would want Rickon to kill uncle Brandon and most people don’t know that either of them are still alive besides.And even if they did, the guards wouldn’t listen to them._

“Why don’t you go over to his bed and find out?Just get away from the door and…Seven Hells, this isn’t how the voices said things would go at all.They lied to me,” whined Rickon as Robar and Lord Bolton made their way into the room.Royce arrived not long afterward and Nymeria let out a sigh of relief once she realized her mother must have still been asleep.For once, Robar made himself useful and quickly knocked his uncle unconscious.As soon as it was safe to do so, the youngest Bolton raced across the room and began frantically shaking her eldest uncle. 

“Uncle Brandon?Brandon, wake up!Please, my mother can’t see you like this, else she’ll blame herself and…WAKE UP!Brandon or Reek or…or…whatever your name is supposed to be, please don’t die!Just do some *sniff* do something to show you can hear me.Blink or twitch or…or…please!All you have to *sniff* have to do is move a little bit or *sniff* or…SAY SOMETHING!” 

“He is dead.It is for the best, I think,” said the Lord of The Dreadfort in a voice as soft as a whisper. 

“Shut up!” 

“What did you just say?” 

“I said if you shut your mouth and get out of my sight right now, then mayhaps I’ll consider just sending you to The Wall instead of putting your head on a spike once I’ve become Lord of Winterfell.Do you understand or should I say it louder?Mayhaps you’ve gotten so old that your hearing is going,” seethed Nymeria, turning around and looking her grandfather directly in his pale, blue eyes. _I’m not afraid of you and…and you’re going to regret whatever it is you did to mother at that stupid wedding.Someday I…I’m going to make The North into a better place…one that has no room for people like you and your children.I…I forgive you, Rickon; I know that you’re only like this because of whatever it is that Lord Bolton did to you._

“I’m really sorry, grandfather, my sister is just so upset that she doesn’t know what she’s saying.I’m sure you agree that it would not be in anyone’s interest for you to hold her words against her.Come on, Nym, let’s…let’s go wake up mother.She’ll want to know what happened.We should really be going, right Nym?NYMERIA,” Royce shouted as he frantically grabbed his sister by her right hand and practically dragged her out the room.At first, the Lord of The Dreadfort said nothing, still refusing to break eye contact with his granddaughter, but a strange look soon came over his cold, reptilian face.Lord Bolton looked neither scared nor angry; in truth, he looked as if the answer to a mystery were right on the tip of his tongue although the youngest Bolton was quite certain she had no idea what about Royce could have caught his attention…not that it mattered.Whatever it was, the moment passed as quickly as it had arrived. 

“You plainly have the right of it,” muttered the Lord of The Dreadfort.“The two of you had best run along and fetch your mother.You will send her directly to this room.I fear that it would not serve to tell her why; it will be easier for her see her brother’s death with her own eyes, I think.Once this is done, the two of you are to keep out of this room until Robar, your mother, and I are finished.Is that understood?Good.” 

…

  
The two youngest Boltons had almost reached their parents’ chambers when Nymeria suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. _Lord Bolton wouldn’t agree to let me get away with talking to him that way just because Royce asked him to; something happened in there._

“Why did Lord Bolton agree to overlook what I said to him?”  

“I don’t know,” replied Royce with a shrug. 

“Are you sure about that?I can always when you’re lying…” 

“Technically, I wasn’t lying.” 

“And now you’re going to tell me the truth.Don’t worry, this could be a good thing.If you’re blackmailing him somehow –” 

“Seven Hells, Nym, I wanted it to be a surprise.I wasn’t going to tell you until your…until our nameday.” 

“Well, I figured it out, so you might as well just tell me now.” 

“Okaaaaaay.A few months ago, Lord Bolton said he was near certain that I had always hated uncle Brandon.” 

“I wonder what our grandfather saw that could’ve given him that idea,” muttered the youngest Bolton. 

“I don’t know.Actually, I was wondering that myself.” _Liar!_  

“Is that so?”  

“Yeah.Anyway, he can’t do anything to make me too angry now because I know that he offered to give me advice on how to trick our evil uncle into getting himself killed after mercy-killing uncle Brandon.” 

“But you didn’t have anything to do with what happened today…did you?” _Royce couldn’t possibly be that stupid…could he?_  

“Yep.Those secret passages in the crypts go right under hidden dungeon Lord Bolton had built to house highborn prisoners…well…actually, only Rickon was ever kept there.Anyway, one of the stones on the floor under Rickon’s bed could be removed without making any noise.Lord Bolton did that to spy on our mother when she was talking to uncle Rickon to make sure she wasn’t planning to help him escape.I would go and remove it late at night just like Lord Bolton suggested.Rickon wasn’t thinking very clearly when I first started whispering in different voices and I was eventually able to talk him into anything I wanted.I wish you could’ve been there to see it!” 

“But I don’t…I don’t understand.Why would you do that?” 

“He tried to kill you, Nym!And you said that it would be a mercy if someone put our other uncle out of his misery so that he wouldn’t suffer anymore.And I never liked either of our uncles besides…wait…you…umm…you don’t look very happy right now.” 

“Royce, I want you to listen to me very carefully,” seethed the youngest Bolton as she struggled to control the quiet rage within her that seemed to grow with each passing second. 

“What?What did I do?” 

“You’re not listening.” 

“Is it that you almost got hurt?How was I supposed to know that you’d be the one who found uncle Rickon?I was hoping it would be –”*SLAP*“OWWWWW!What was that for?”*SLAP*“I did it for you, Nym!”*SLAP*“HEY!That one really hurt!” 

“Do I have your attention now?Good.Believe me, you’d be in a lot more pain right now if we didn’t have to go wake mother and tell her what happened.Unfortunately, that means you need to be able to walk.I didn’t want you to kill uncle Rickon since he’d clearly gone soft in the head and probably doesn’t even know what he’s doing.And what he did was Randyll’s fault, but I guess that would’ve been okay as long as mother thought uncle Rickon died of natural causes.And just to be clear, I do NOT want you to do anything to Randyll.” 

“I’m not going to try to hurt him.” 

“ROYCE, NO!” 

“Fine, I won’t kill him,” sighed the second youngest Bolton.I can still change him, I just…I just need more time. 

“Good.”

“Was that all you were upset about?”*SLAP*“OWWWWWWW!” 

“You’re still not listening, Royce.I said that uncle Brandon’s death would be a mercy because I felt sorry for him, but that doesn’t mean I thought it would be a good thing if he died.I was trying to figure out a way to make him whoever he was before Lord Snow found him, but even his death wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world.I’d be extremely wroth with you, but we wouldn’t be having this talk.What I DO care about is what all of this is going to do to mother; she’s going to be absolutely devastated.I don’t want to even think about what it would be like to live in a world without you, Royce, but if you EVER do something like this to our mother again then I might just have to find out.” 

“Please don’t hurt me,” whimpered Royce.By now all the color had completely drained from the second youngest Bolton’s face and his whole body had started to shaking.  

“Don’t worry, I still hate you.That’s why I’m giving you another chance.As long as nothing like this happens again, I forgive you.I swear it by The Old Gods.” 

“What about The New?” 

“What about them?The Seven aren’t real.” 

“Riiiight.You’re sure you’re not wroth with me, Nym?” 

“Of course, I’m still wroth with you, but I’ll get over it.Just…try to behave yourself around me for the next few days.Half of me wants to strangle you to death right now, but I still hate you and WE are going to be okay.That’s what matters.”The moment Nymeria said those words, her youngest brother’s entire posture changed and he no longer seemed the least bit concerned about what had just happened. _Was he faking?No, Royce would never try to trick me like that.And I can always tell when someone’s lying besides.I’m the smartest person in The North; the smartest in all of Westeros, most like._

“What does the other half of you want to do to –” *SLAP*“Okay, I deserved that one.” 

“I know, that’s why I hit you.Now will you please just…just make yourself useful and help me think of a way we can tell mother what happened without hurting her or making her think this was her fault.I hope you realize that you also put your own life in danger.Lord Bolton isn’t just going to let you go around with that knowledge for the rest of your life.He can try to blackmail you or…he might just be planning to make sure you have a hunting accident.” 

“Why would he –”  

“Seven Hells, I’m going to have to figure out a way to save your life too, aren’t I?You’re now a loose end, Royce.” 

“I’m sorry, Nym.I…I really thought you’d be happy.” 

“Well, I’m not!This is the worst thing you’ve ever done.You hurt people I care about, you put your life in danger, and it didn’t have to happen.That’s the part I still don’t understand.Why would you do something like this, hurt so many people, and take all of these risks just because you thought it might make me happy?” 

“Because I hate you,” sighed Royce. 

“You really mean that, don’t you?You did all of this…for me?  Was this supposed to be some sort of grand romantic display or something?” 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you."  _I think I'm going to be sick..._    

“Just…just don’t ever let me catch you hurting any innocent animals, okay?And I need you to promise me that from now on you won’t try to kill anyone without my permission.”  

“The things I do for hate…I mean…love…you know what I mean.Alright, Nym, I swear it by The Old Gods.” 

“Good, I’m glad we’re both on the same page.Now what would make me very happy is if you can think of a way we can keep mother from blaming herself for any of this.” 

“That’s easy!Why don’t I just tell mother most of what happened except make her think Lord Bolton was the one who did the voices and that I overheard him when I was playing in the tunnel one night?You can say you were there too, so we’d have a second witness.And mother will believe you besides.I bet she won’t even think to ask what we were doing in the tunnel and she certainly won’t listen to a word Lord Bolton says.She’ll be so wroth with our grandfather that he won’t be able to control her anymore, most like.We’d be doing something good for her.” 

“That’s…actually not a bad idea.Obviously, I would’ve eventually come up with it on my own, but I’m impressed.” 

“Does that mean that we can go to my chambers later and –”*SLAP* 

“What did I supposedly do wrong this time?”*SLAP*“OWWWWWW!”

“Seven Hells, is that all you ever think about,” groaned Nymeria, rubbing her forehead in frustration. _This is for your own good, Royce.I have to find a way to change you, else you won’t live to become king, much less a good one.Hopefully that one knocked some sense into him; I think my hand is too tired to hit him again._

“Only when you’re around.”*SLAP* _Nevermind._


	16. Arya

“Mother?Mother, wake up,” whispered a terrified voice as two pairs of tiny hands began frantically shaking the Queen of The North. 

“Ugghhh.What…what’s going…just let me sleep for one more *yawn* hour and –” _Wait, that was Nymeria’s voice.She sounded absolutely terrified and Nymeria would never just barge in and wake me up unless it were something really important.What if…what if she’s hurt or needs my help?_ Arya’s eyes shot open as she bolted up from the stone floor of her and Domeric’s chambers where she had been sleeping.“Nymeria, are you okay?What’s wrong?I…I’m awake now!Don’t worry; whatever you’re upset about, I promise that I’ll take care of it.Everything’s going to be okay.You’re not hurt…are you?” 

“I’m not hurt,” mumbled the youngest Bolton as she began nervously kicking at the ground. 

“Is it Royce?Is that why he’s here with you?If Skinner hit him again, then I’ll have that idiot’s head mounted on a spike in less than an hour.The same goes for Lord Bolton’s bastard.If he did anything to Royce –” 

“Well, mother, they both –” 

“Don’t even think about it,” hissed Nymeria in a voice that Arya had hoped never to hear from any of her children, least of all her daughter. _That…that didn’t mean anything.Nym was just copying the way she’s heard me talk to Domeric, most like.And there’s still time besides.I won’t let her grow up to be broken like me; she’s good.She’s what I could have…what I should have been…what I would have been if father hadn’t left Winterfell.She’s the best thing I’ve ever…the best thing I could ever make.I know she was listening to me when I told her that she was going to do great things someday; something so incredible that The North will always remember her._

_Nymeria is the one who is going to make the name “Bolton” an honorable one.She’s going to make it what the name “Stark” used to be before the Red Wedding.No matter how hard he tries, Robar will never be smart enough to rule on his own.He’ll need help from Lyanna, Royce, Nymeria, and me.At least he’ll listen to us whenever he becomes king, most like.Royce is smart enough, but he’s too craven.And he’d be just like all the other Boltons if I weren’t his mother besides.Royce means well and he’s going to grow up to be a good person, but it doesn’t come near as naturally to him as it does to Robar and Nymeria.I’ll protect all of them from Lord Boltons…even Randyll; and then someday – when I’m not around anymore – Nymeria will be able to look out for her brothers the way I would have if I were still alive.Lord Bolton stole…he can have everything else, but not her!I’ll kill that monster before I let him or either of his sons change her.All of my children are going to grow up to be good people, but Nym is the only one who will be able to completely transform The North and make it into a better place for everyone._

“Fiiiiiine,” groaned Royce. 

“Mother, are you okay?” 

“I…I’m fine, Nym.I was *yawn* just tired, but I’m awake now.Why did you wake me up if you and Royce are both alright?” 

“I…well…because…I don’t know how to say this, but –” 

“Nymeria’s trying to tell you that uncle Brandon is dead.Uncle Rickon murdered him by suffocating him somehow last night,” exclaimed Royce.“There was a rat nibbling on his –” 

“What the Seven Hells is wrong with you,” shouted the youngest Bolton.“Stop being such an insensitive arsehole!Mother doesn’t need to hear that part!” 

“You never called me an arsehole before,” sighed Royce, frowning.  
  
“I could call you much worse things right now.Mother, are you alright?Mother?”In that moment, something began to break deep within the Queen of The North’s soul.It was the sort of thing that, once broken, can never quite be put back together again.If it were a mirror, it wouldn’t have shattered quite yet, but cracks would’ve started rapidly spreading across the glass. 

“I did this.It…it was my fault.I killed Bran too; he’s dead because of me,” Arya mumbled in a voice that was near as dead and empty as she felt.Nymeria was trying to say something, but that didn’t matter…not really; and all of her words were starting to blend together and lose their meaning besides.In truth, Arya wouldn’t have even noticed if her two youngest children started speaking gibberish.It was as though the Queen of The North were trapped in a downward spiral of self-loathing which had left her in a state as cold and lifeless as Bran’s dead body. _I shouldn’t have a family…not really.I don’t deserve to have such wonderful children.I don’t even deserve to be a Bolton.I deserve to die all alone…that’s what happens to everyone I care about: they die, alone and afraid, and it’s always my fault.What if…what if I can’t protect my children…from me?_ Suddenly, the most unlikely person in Westeros snapped Arya out of her trance before she had a chance to ponder that horrid question and the thought vanished as quickly as it had appeared. 

“WILL ALL OF YOU PLEASE SHUT UP,” screamed Domeric.“Some of us are still trying to sleep!Does anyone here ever think about my needs?No, of course not.After all, I’m only the King of the bloody North.” _Wait a minute…you knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?You’re the one who told me that Lord Bolton was going to…I bet he was never even planning to execute Rickon._ Suddenly, the Queen of The North’s grief gave way to furious anger as she leapt onto Domeric’s bed and shoved him off of it. _I hope that monster landed on his head!_

“Now you won’t have to worry about sleeping,” seethed the Queen of The North as she grabbed _Vengeance_ and raced toward her husband. _I…I’m going to kill him.Not for what he did to me, but for what he did to Bran and Rickon._

“MOTHER, NO,” screamed a terrified voice. _They shouldn’t see this…_  

“It’s okay, Nym, your father and I are just…having a bit of an argument right now.I need you two to go to your chambers and stay there for –” 

“Wow, she’s actually going to kill him!Cool!OWWW,” yelped Royce as his sister punched him in his left shoulder.Upon noticing that Domeric was starting to pick himself up off the ground, Arya gave her husband a swift kick in the groin to ensure that he remained on the cold, hard stone floor where he belonged.The King of The North screamed like a stuck pig, but for some reason not a single guard so much as knocked on the door. 

“I’m not going to kill anyone,” Arya lied, turning her attention back to her children.“I just…I just need you to –”

“Father had nothing to do with uncle Brandon’s death, I swear,” insisted the youngest Bolton.In truth, Nymeria sounded so frightened that one could have been forgiven for thinking she’d just seen The Night’s King himself.“I…I nuh-never thought anything like this would happen when…when I told you what happened to…to uncle Brandon.It wasn’t father!” 

“Wait…what do you mean?” 

“It *sniff* it was all Lord Bolton’s fault.He did it!Royce overheard him telling Luton how to trick uncle Rick-Rickon into *sniff* into thinking it would *sniff* be a mercy to kill uncle Brandon.Lord Bolt *sniff* Bolton must have father too; he did it because *sniff* because thought you had too much influence over us, so he tried to make you *sniff* make you so depressed that you’d be too broken to challenge him or even *sniff* or even try to kill yourself.It would…it would also give him an excuse to get rid of both of your brothers.He doesn’t need *sniff* doesn’t need you anymore which means he doesn’t *sniff* need them anymore either.Please don’t kill father; I hate him too, but you…you can’t kill him.If you do then *sniff* then Lord Bolton will have you killed too and I…I’ll have no one left that I can trust except *sniff* aunt Lyanna.You’ll be dead and it will *sniff* it will be all my fault for telling you and…and…and please don’t kill anyone, mother!I *sniff* I need…please, don’t do it.I never meant *sniff* never meant to make you abandon us and I *sniff* I’m sorry,” sobbed the youngest Bolton. 

The Queen of The North looked down at the ground in shame and felt an entirely new sort of self-loathing. _She’s right.I almost abandoned them…my own children and most of what happened wasn’t even Domeric’s fault.And even if it was, I still couldn’t kill Domeric, else would’ve cut off my head and there’d be no one left to protect my children from him._ _I didn’t abandon them though.I…I stopped myself before it was too late.I won’t let my anger get the better of me like that ever again.I can’t!I’m a woman grown; I have to start acting the part.I have to be careful how I handle my enemies, especially when I’m wroth with them.I don’t have the right to risk getting myself killed while any of my children are alive.I will always be there for them and there’s nothing Lord Bolton, Lord Snow, Domeric, or any other monster can do about it._

“Wait a minute…what about me?You can trust me too,” blurted Royce, frowning. 

“Of course.” 

“Then why didn’t you say –” 

“Not a good *sniff* good time, Royce,” muttered the youngest Bolton between sobs. 

“You still hate –” 

“Yes, now drop it,” hissed Nymeria in a voice burning with quiet, tranquil fury.For a split-second, the grief and fear in her pale, blue eyes gave way to an anger that startled even her mother, but it disappeared so quickly that it was impossible to say for sure whether it was ever truly there in the first place. 

“So we can still…OWWW!What was that for?Don’t tell me you’re still mad about…OWW!Really?I already apologized!I’m sorry for trying to make you happy.I thought you wanted me to…OWWWW!That one really hurt!You’d better stop…stop or…and I just…umm…I only meant…nevermind,” mumbled Royce in a dazed tone as his sister gave him a quick, apologetic smile without even bothering to wipe away her tears.“We can talk later.You and mother should just…do whatever you have to do right now.I…umm…I shouldn’t have been thinking so much about my own needs right now.Nym’s really upset right now, so I am choosing not to interrupt so much just because there are other things I also want to talk about right now.”The Queen of The North could’ve sworn she saw a flicker of genuine happiness – or mayhaps it was relief – race across daughter’s face, but once again, it was gone before she could be sure.  

“Thank you for *sniff* for putting mother and…and my *sniff* my needs ahead of yours like *sniff* like that, Royce.I don’t know what I’d *sniff* do without you,” whimpered the youngest Bolton.

“I think I was really interrupting because I…I was so upset about what happened to uncle Brandon that I was afraid to keep talking about it.Thinking about what happened makes it feel more real,” Royce sadly sighed as a three tears rolled down each of his cheeks. _That was very…strange, but they do sometimes talk that way to each other.What were they even talking about?It was like Royce…time enough for that later.Right now I need to make sure that they aren’t scarred by what happened today._ _At least Royce seems to be handling this reasonably well.Nymeria though…wait, is she still crying?Bran’s death must have taken some time to sink in and Royce was plainly the one who found the body besides.He probably took a moment to calm down before telling anyone about it.Nymeria only found out a few minutes before they woke me, most like._

Ordinarily, the Queen of The North would have chided her daughter and made her apologize for repeatedly punching her brother in the shoulder, but that didn’t matter right now.All that mattered was calming down a frightened little girl with pale, blue eyes before she ended up broken and alone like her mother. _Nymeria knows better than to hit people when she’s wroth with them.She must be terrified right now or maybe…maybe she just needed to lash out at something.Either way, it wasn’t really her fault and she’d never harm a hair on Royce’s head besides.Those two understand what a family is supposed to be; Westeros would be a better place if more families were as close as those two._

_If everyone in House Stark loved each other that much then I wouldn’t be alone and…NO!_ _I’ll never be alone while Robar, Randyll, Royce, and Nymeria are alive.I still have a family.Killing Domeric or Lord Bolton won’t bring Bran back and it would be kinslaying besides.My children are all I have left.They are alive and they…they’re all that matters.Nymeria needs me right now.She’s going to grow up to be better than me; I just have to protect her until then._ The Queen of The North raced across the room and hugged her daughter as tightly as she could. 

“Shhhhh.It’s okay, I promise I’m not going to kill your father; that would be kinslaying.I was only going to hurt him a little bit, but I won’t even do that.See?Everything’s going to be alright.I miss Bran too.This isn’t who Rickon is…was, so I lost two brothers today.We both lost people who meant a great deal to us.I promise that Royce and I won’t think any less of you for crying.That’s it, Nym, just let it all out.Don’t worry, I won’t abandon you.No matter what happens…no matter what you do, I promise that I’ll always be there for you and your brothers.Whenever you’re worried that one of us might be wroth with you for something, just remember that you can never completely lose your family.I once let Lord Bolton convince me that I had lost mine and it was the worst mistake I ever made, but I know you won’t let anyone do that to you.Shhhhh.Don’t worry, everything’s going to be okay.I promise that none of this is your fault.” 

“Do you *sniff* do you promise that I can never lose my *sniff* my family?No matter what I do?” 

“I promise!” _I’m not lying to Nym; I’m just…protecting her from a dangerous truth.And I’ll always be there for her besides.You can lose your family though.I lost Robb, Rickon, and Lord Snow stole Bran from me, but Nym doesn’t need to worry about that right now.I’ve lost Sansa too, most like._ Arya bit her lip. 

“When I *sniff* when I’m your age, I’m going to make The North a place where there are no more *sniff* no more people like father or Lord Bolton or his bastard!I’m going to do it, mother!I’m going to *sniff* I’ll make sure no one suffers the way you, aunt Lyanna, and your younger brothers did ever again.You’ll *sniff* you’ll see,” whispered the youngest Bolton.  
  
“If anyone can do it, you can,” Arya gently whispered.“Someday, you and your brothers are going to rule over a better world.You can even create it yourselves, so long as you don’t let Lord Bolton, Lord Snow, the Umbers, the Lords of the Iron Islands, or any other monsters stand in your way.No matter what happens, Westeros will be a better place because you, Royce, and Robar are in it.”  

“What about Randyll,” blurted Royce, even as he was plainly struggling to hear the words his mother was whispering to her youngest child. 

“Mother left *sniff* left him out for a reason,” mumbled Nymeria. 

“No, your brother is right.Even Randyll could still change for the better someday if we let him and he’s still part of our family besides.That means we can’t just give up on him…not even after what he did to Rickon and you.I’ll always love you and your brothers.I only…I wish Randyll was more like you and Royce, but that’s just not who he is right now.There’s still time though; I’m sure he’ll get there…someday.” 

“What if something happens to you while father or Lord Bolton are still alive?” _Good, Nymeria’s finally starting to calm down a bit._ _Poor thing!_

“I know that all four of you will outlive Lord Bolton and both of his sons because you’re each strong enough to do whatever you have to in order to survive without letting your enemies change you.” 

“I’m…arrrrggghhh…I’m right…right here.Seven Hells, did every…arrrggghhh…man-at…man-at-arms leave…leave Winterfell,” groaned Domeric.Much to the King of The North’s frustration, none of his kin even bothered to waste the time it would’ve taken to look at him, much less acknowledged that he’d actually said anything. 

“But what if surviving and making The North a better place…what if that means doing something that could cause one of us to lose people in our family…the way that you lost uncle Rickon?” 

“Listen to me very carefully, Nym.As long as I’m alive, I promise that you and your brothers will always have a family.There is nothing that any of you – even Randyll – can do to change that.And you’ll also have each other besides.What Rickon did was too horrid to ever forgive, but even he is still my brother and I’ll always love him.”Arya bit her lip and fought back tears of grief for the sake of two children who needed their mother to be strong. 

The Queen of The North knew that what happened to her youngest brother was her fault and that the Rickon she knew had died in a dark, lonely dungeon cell a long time ago, but that wasn’t what her daughter – or Royce, for that matter – needed to hear right now.All that they needed to know was that they would never be alone and that no matter what either of them might do, there would always be people who loved them. 

“Why has everyone been acting so weird today,” blurted Royce.“I mean, I know uncle Rickon murdered uncle Brandon, but this…isn’t how I thought either of you would react.”Arya let go of her daughter and turned to face her youngest son, but for some reason he immediately looked down at his feet.Royce’s eyes remained glued to his feet as though he were afraid to look his mother in the eye. 

“Everything’s going to be okay; I promise.Your sister was really upset about what happened to Bran and I…I just need to speak with your…Seven Hells, Domeric, do you have to make so much noise?” _Who is he even talking to?It’s not like anyone has been listening to a word he’s said._

“You…AARRGGGHHH…kicked me…in…in the –” 

“Do you want me to do kick you again?If I were you, I’d mind my tongue and consider myself fortunate to be able to feel anything there.”The King of The North began quietly moaning, plainly trying to make as little noise as possible. 

“You’re…not going to kill Lord Bolton…are you?”  
  
“No, Nym; that would be also kinslaying and I’d just be getting myself killed if I tried to do something like that besides.” 

“Mother?” 

“Yes, Royce?” 

“Before you go to speak with grandfather, you should remove whoever is in charge of the guards at Winterfell and replace him with someone loyal to you.Father won’t tell you ‘no’ again for a while unless grandfather is in the room, most like.” _There’s not enough time to do that right now, but Royce is right.I should make Domeric put someone loyal to me in charge of Winterfell’s garrison.Most of the men-at-arms would still be loyal to Ramsay, Domeric, or Lord Bolton though…at least for a the first month or two.I need to start doing a better job of putting people loyal to either me or my children in positions of power at Winterfell.It’s not enough to just have allies amongst the other Northern Houses; I need them here too._

_I’m the Queen of The North, so I might even be able overrule Lord Bolton sometimes.I should do that whenever I disagree with him since he can’t do anything about it without running off to Domeric and he’d never beg for his son’s help like that, most like.Mayhaps I should also start treating him like a servant in front of other lords when Domeric isn’t around; it’s not like most Northern lords would come running to his defense.It would make him look weak in their eyes and…no, half of why we’re still alive is that all the other lords are afraid of Lord Bolton._

“Mind your…ARRRGH…mind your…your tongue, Roy–” 

“Shut up,” snapped Arya.For his part, Domeric did as he was bid without so much as a word of protest, much to his wife’s disgust. _Pathetic.I almost killed you and then kicked you in the groin and instead of saying a single word against me, you’re still cowering in fear on the floor.Some king you are…_ _At least Royce told Nym not to hit him before he realized that she wasn’t really wroth with him and was just lashing out because of how sad she was about Bran’s death.You’re too craven to even do that much.I wish I could hate you, but you haven’t even earned the right to be hated._

… 

Arya took a deep breath before calmly making her way into the late Brandon Stark’s chambers and bit her lip as she tried in vain to make herself believe her brother’s death and Rickon’s imminent execution weren’t her fault. _I…I knew Rickon wasn’t ready to leave his cell.Even if he hadn’t killed Bran, he would’ve tried to escape from Winterfell…or killed me.He might’ve even attacked one of my children.I knew he wasn’t ready and I let him out anyway because I…I was only thinking about how horrid I felt for failing him.Now Bran’s dead and soon Rickon will be too._

_It’s my…no, it wasn’t all my fault.Nymeria said that Royce heard Lord Bolton and Luton plotting to trick Rickon into thinking Bran was suffering so much that it would be a mercy.I didn’t abandon Rickon either…not really.I just…did what had to be done in order to protect my children is all.And Rickon was the one who killed Bran besides.Wait a minute…what are Lord Bolton and Robar doing here?_ I thought Lord Bolton would be waiting here, but Robar…he shouldn’t see this.  
  
“Robar, leave us,” ordered the Queen of The North. 

“He may stay here if he so chooses, I think.”  

“Brandon was my uncle and I don’t have to go if I don’t want to, mother.Grandfather just said so himself.Why do you want me to leave so badly anyway?Is it that…I mean…you’re not afraid of what I might hear, are you?”Somehow the Queen of The North managed to resist the urge to role her eyes at her eldest son, albeit just barely. _Seven Hells, Robar, what are you even talking about?_

“Of course not, I only thought…”Arya’s voice trailed off mid-sentence as she saw Bran’s lifeless body laying flat on his bed and slowly made her way towards the slightly bloated corpse.“I…I’m sorry, Bran.I never meant for this to happen and I…I should have protected you…somehow.It was an accident!I never meant…I didn’t know what Rickon would do.I’m sorry, I just –”Suddenly, a cold, cruel voice snapped The Queen of The North out of her horrid trance. 

“It may interest you to know that your brother has already been returned to his cell.I would not see a kinslayer draw breath for so much as a single second longer than is absolutely necessary.It would not serve for our House to let such a heinous crime go unpunished.” _Burn in Hell!_ “Even so, I will do you the mercy of permitting you to speak with your brother before I have his tongue out, but I fear you shall require adult supervision should you choose to do so.You’d do well to make up your mind quickly, I think.I can assure you that the young kinslayer shall be executed before the day is through.” _Why is Robar looking at me like he’s afraid of…no, that doesn’t make any sense.And I need to focus on dealing with Lord Bolton right now besides._

“I know what you did.And you’re already a kinslayer besides,” seethed the Queen of The North. 

“As always, your heartfelt thanks are truly their own reward.It matters not at all…although I would have thought you would be pleased to know that your kin will be avenged.As I recall, the late Catelyn Stark was also quite fond of baselessly hurling wild accusations at members of our House,” replied the Lord of The Dreadfort as a flicker of amusement crept across his face. 

“You’re not even crying and you even said some of the things Lord Bolt…I mean…grandfather said you would.It’s almost like…you’re not really upset about what happened to your brother, are you,” gasped Robar. 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“You can’t even deny it, can you?” _You…you really mean that, don’t you?_  


“Of course, I’m upset!It’s just that Nymeria and Royce told me what happened, so I’ve already had some time to calm down, else this would’ve caught me completely off-guard.That doesn’t mean I’m not sad or wroth with Lord Bolton for causing this to happen.Seven Hells, Robar; what have I ever done that would even make you think that I don’t care about my own kin?” _He doesn’t know about what happened at The Twins, unless…could Lord Bolton have told him?No, Robar would’ve said something about it by now if that had happened._

“You do sound really upset.I…I didn’t think it would be this hard to decide what was going on.I’m sorry if I was wrong about you, mother, but I just don’t know.It can oft be hard to figure out what people in our House are really thinking since so many of you like to hide how you feel.You can always tell what uncle…I mean…Lord Ramsay never tries to hide how he’s feeling.” _Seven Hells!_ _You’re my son Robar and I will always love you, but you…really worry me sometimes._

“No good can come from foolish children forgetting themselves,” murmured Lord Bolton. _Nymeria and Royce were right; he was hoping Bran and Rickon’s deaths would break me or make me do something stupid like trying to kill Domeric.They saved me.Lord Bolton wanted to be able to control the tone of the conversation after I saw Bran’s body so he could convince me that this was all my fault, most like.I don’t know what’s gotten into Robar though, unless…Lord Bolton was alone with him and he’s done this before._ Arya bit her lip and her face turned pale as a sheet as she finally understood the fear her mother must have felt in Riverrun as the doomed woman tried in vain to warn her youngest daughter about the Lord of The Dreadfort. 

This time, tears started dribbling down the Queen of The North’s cheeks as she remembered a sad, lonely little girl who had awoken from her slumber to find that she had been betrayed by the person she trusted more than anyone else in Westeros…and that her mother and eldest brother had been slain by savages.These same monsters burned down the girl’s home, took her younger brothers prisoner, and forced the girl to become one of them in order to protect her children…all of whom were born after their father raped her.However, the worst part was that the frightened little girl had let a beast in human skin turn her against the most loving mother anyone could have ever wanted.Now that her mother was dead, the girl would go to her grave knowing deep down that it was all her fault along with every bad thing that had happened to the family she’d lost during the following years. _Lord Bolton can’t have any of my children!I’ll protect Robar and I…I won’t let him make the same mistake I did._

“You…you’re crying now,” blurted Robar, scratching his head.“I wish you people would stop being so complicated and just make up your minds about these sorts of things.Seven Hells, this is my fault, isn’t it?” 

“You’d best leave now, Robar.I need to speak with your mother alone,” said the Lord of The Dreadfort in a voice which made it plain that this was an order rather than a request.For his part, the eldest son of Domeric and Arya Bolton wasted no time doing as he was bid. 

…

“I know what you did to Bran and Rickon; I also know what you are trying to do to Robar,” growled The Queen of The North as soon as Robar had left the room. 

“It matters not at all.” 

“I am the Queen of The North.You are only The Hand of The King and by this time next year, you might not even be that.I could make it matter.” 

“I seem to recall having a very similar conversation with your mother at Riverrun many years ago.I would advise you to ask her how that turned out.” 

“I seem to recall you telling me many years ago that a fool and his tongue are oft soon to part.I would advise you not to say another word about my mother.” 

“I trust that you are not so foolish as to deliberately threaten me.” 

“That wasn’t a threat; it was a warning.I’m going to hurt you for what you did to my brothers unless you leave my children alone for the rest of your life and send Rickon to The Wall instead of executing him.You can have his tongue out or make certain no one will ever be able to recognize him, but I won’t let you kill him…not even after what he did to Bran.This is your first and final chance.” 

“A wise man knows when to submit to his betters.You would do well to pour wine upon these troubled waters while you still have time.Mayhaps I will only punish you instead of your four children if watching you grovel at my feet proves to be a satisfactory amusement.Of course, I fear I shall still be forced to punish my two youngest grandchildren for their conduct earlier this morning, but it will go easier for them if you get down on your knees and beg my forgiveness…or mayhaps it won’t and you will have sacrificed your little remaining dignity for nothing.I fear it depends entirely upon whether or not you are willing to selfishly place your own pride ahead of the welfare of your children.In truth, it matters to me not at all which choice you make regarding this matter,” replied Lord Bolton. 

“One day, when you’re a weak, hated, broken shell of your former self laying flat on your deathbed – a once feared man reduced to a jape as entire The North takes turns spitting in your face – you’ll remember this day,” seethed Arya, her face the very picture of tranquil fury.“By the time you die, you’ll be able to taste the ashes of the world you tried to build in your mouth.The sun will set on the Red Kings of The Dreadfort forever and House Stark will rise stronger than before even as its members all carry the Bolton name.My children will be Starks in every way that matters and they are going to erase your entire legacy.It will be as though you were never born and it will happen before your death.” 

“You and your children are not the only members of my House,” countered the Lord of The Dreadfort.“You wish for me to spare your brother Rickon?Very well.I shall do so provided you consent to Randyll being executed in his place.” 

“Don’t tell me that your children will carry on your legacy,” continued Arya, ignoring Lord Bolton’s pathetic attempt to provoke some sort of violent reaction.“We both know The North would feed your bastard to his own dogs rather than follow him for a single day and that Domeric won’t care enough to argue with me about how The North should be ruled unless you’re in the room with him.House Bolton will come to symbolize everything that House Stark stood for; and as you lay dying, you’ll know that I was the one who destroyed the only thing you care about other than your own miserable life.You’ll know that I was the one who stripped you of your power, reputation, dignity, and mayhaps even your titles.I’m going to make you wish you’d killed me along with Robb and my mother at the Red Wedding.Do you understand, my Lord?” 

“I understand perfectly.For your children’s sake, I only hope that you understand what you have done.My bastard shall supervise your visit with Lord Rickon.For now, I shall leave you alone with your dead brother.It will give you a chance to admire your work, I think,” the Lord of The Dreadfort curtly replied as he calmly made his way out of Bran’s chambers. 


	17. Royce

“Nymeria?Nymeria?Hellooooo?”Royce frowned as his sister continued to nervously pace about in his chambers. _Am I still in trouble or not?_  

“Not now, Royce,” groaned the youngest Bolton. 

“This isn’t fair!I helped just like I said I would, so please stop ignoring me.Listen, we’re already in my chambers and I bet you’d feel better if –” 

“Gross!That would NOT make me feel better!” 

“It would make me feel better,” grumbled Royce. 

“This really isn’t a good time.I don’t know how many more ways I can say this, but I have other things to worry about right now.There has to be something else we can do to help mother.I should’ve thought of some excuse to come with her instead of letting her go to speak with Lord Bolton all by herself.What if she’s not wroth enough with him to stand up for herself?He might do something horrid to her and it would be all my fault.” _You sound like mother when she’s worrying about whether it was her fault that all those dumb old people died at The Twins.Stupid Starks._

_I don’t care how smart Nym thinks our mother is, she can’t be too bright if she hasn’t figured out that the only good Stark is a dead Stark. That’s what grandfather says, at least.I’m going to put his head on a spike when I’m king for being such a miserable old prick, but that doesn’t mean the man doesn’t know how to run a kingdom.Well…the peaceful land thing is silly, but Qyburn said old age can make men go soft in the head._ _I guess not everyone who cared about the Starks is useless._ _Nymeria cared about our uncles, but that’s different.She’s already perfect, so she’s allowed to make mistakes.And she’s glad House Stark is gone too besides.I bet Nym was only pretending to like Reek the Freak because she knew it’d make mother happy._

“It’s not like either of us could have done anything to help.We’d just get in the way, most like.And even if something bad did happen because of you, we both know that she’d still forgive you.You wouldn’t get in trouble even if you got caught, so why do you care?Is it because you think our grandfather might try to hurt you to punish mother?Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let him or anyone else –”  

“So you agree that it’s my fault if something bad happens to mother,” sighed Nym, looking down at the ground in shame. _What are you talking about?That’s not what I said.Stranger, Crone, or…umm…whichever one of you Qyburn was talking about when he said that one of you somehow helped guide him when he tried to bring a mouse back to life, I need a favor.By the way, I don’t mean to make the other six of you mad, it’s just that the only one of you who matters right now is the one who helps his followers.That’s what Qyburn said when he was teaching me about The Seven.After the first time he let me become God of his little white mice, he told me that I was the only Bolton mature enough to hear that The Seven were the only real Gods and that one of them helped him with his experiments.Qyburn’s been alive for a long time, maybe he can give me some sort of advice about what to do when Nym gets wroth with me._

_Wait a minute!Nymeria doesn’t believe in The Seven.Maybe I should try those made up Old Gods first.She’d want me to at least give them a chance to prove that they exist, most like.Okay, Old Gods, if you’re real then give me the right words to make my sister feel better and go back to normal.I…I can do this!_  


“I didn’t mean it like that, Nym.All I’m trying to say is that you’re making way too big a deal of this.It was nobody’s fault; it was just a really big misunderstanding.And Arya is only our mother besides.It’s not like it’s the end of Planetos if something bad happens to her.I care about mother too, but even if she died somehow, it’s important to keep things in perspective.No matter how much you care about other people, it doesn’t really matter if they die…well…it matters, but it’s not something to let yourself get riled up about.We’re the only ones who matter.Everyone else in Westeros could be flayed alive or die of the bloody flux and it would be fine as long as we were both alive.Well…I guess we’d need some animals to eat and a few smallfolk to keep as servants, but they wouldn’t matter either.Does that make sense?”Royce frowned upon noticing that his sister was looking at him as though he had grown a second head. _That does it!The Old Gods officially do not exist.Qyburn was right; from now on I’m only going to pray to The Seven.Well…Qyburn said that only one of them actually listens when you ask him for help.Which one was it?The Ranger?No, that’s not it._

“I am going to pretend that I didn’t hear that because I know you would never dream of talking about our mother that way.I’m sure what you meant to say was that you love our mother very much and that someday we’re going to make The North a better place for everyone.We’re going to do it together and when we’re finished, I am going to…I mean…WE are going rule The North because no one else can be trusted with that sort of power.Other people might let it go to their heads, but I won’t and I’ll have good advisors besides.There won’t be anymore people like Lord Bolton and…you’re not listening to a word I’m saying are you,” sighed Nym. _Booooring!Nym would be the best Lord of Winterfell there ever was, but that isn’t the fun part of being in charge.The whole point is to get back at people you don’t like and make everyone afraid of what will happen if you’re wroth with them.When I’m king, I’ll…wait a minute…she just asked me something, didn’t she?_

“No, I’m listening,” Royce lied.“You said…umm…hold on.You said…well…whatever it was, we can do that stuff too when I’m king.” 

“Close enough.Now please, just…just stop talking before you get me even more wroth with you than I already am,” sighed the youngest Bolton, rubbing her forehead in frustration. _Wait…you’re still wroth with me?_

“But I –” 

“I said ‘quit while you’re behind,’” fumed Nymeria. _She doesn’t mean it.This has to be some sort of test or…something.I don’t know why she’s pretending to be wroth with me, but this isn’t fair!Nymeria hitting me if I’ve done something wrong or made her wroth with me is one thing; that’s okay because of how good the other things she did felt and because Nym…umm…she’s the best person in Westeros, so she can hit whoever she wants.Nymeria has always tried to protect me from Lord Snow, Robar, and Skinner just like how I’ve always tried to protect her from anyone who tried to do anything bad to her or did anything to make her wroth with them.I’d have killed father for making her cry if she’d let me.Maybe another time…_

_And Nym would never try to hurt me on purpose besides.She just loses her temper sometimes, but that could happen to anyone and she could still feel really bad about it afterwards.I…umm…I bet Nym never apologizes for hitting me because she feels so guilty that she can’t even stand to think about it._  
  
_This is different though.Nym shouldn’t be completely ignoring me or acting like I’m annoying her, I’d rather she just slap me or something and get it over with.I didn’t even do anything wrong this time.I’ve been on my best behavior today!I even pretended to feel badly about what happened to Reek the Freak and our evil uncle.And I saved Nym from Prickon Stark by tricking him into getting himself executed whether she’ll admit it or not.Nym’s really good at thinking of plans, but I’ve had good ones too.Nym’s not like other people and I’ll always hate her, but father’s right about how ungrateful women can be!No, Nym definitely appreciates me, I just…need to help remind her sometimes.I know she still cares even if she’s wroth with me right now._

_Nym was the only one who never said I was any less of a Bolton for being forced to live with that evil old witch in Barrowtown when I was little.Even mother tries to tell me that I’m a different type of Bolton, but she says that to Robar, Randyll, and Nym too.It’s like her weird thing about hurting people for fun being bad or how mother and Nym get all worked up about their silly woman’s issues like rape and not using that c-word for what girl parts are called.Nymeria made me promise not to even think it, but I don’t get why anyone cares if you say that word.Girls don’t have weird, floppy tails like boys do, so I don’t get how they could even have parts that you’re not supposed to look at, but maybe hearing the word makes them jealous because they don’t have tails.People can be really strange; I bet I’m the first normal person ever to set foot in Winterfell and…FOCUS!I need to figure out a way to calm Nym down and help her understand that nothing bad happened._

“Do you think mother’s going to be okay,” asked the youngest Bolton.“I just…I don’t know if this was such a good idea.We kept her from doing something stupid like attacking father, but…I mean…you don’t think she’d actually try to kill Lord Bolton, do you?What if she still needs my help?I *sniff* I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her before she even got to see all the things I’m going to do when I…I mean…everything we’re going to do when we grow up.” _Not this again…I hate you more than anything else in the world, but you care about our mother a lot more than you should.We don’t even need her anymore, most like._

_Maybe it would be better for everyone if mother had a really bad accident.She’s always tried to protect me, but Nym does that too.It’s all well and good for mother to love us, but mothers aren’t allowed to not care about their children, so that doesn’t really count.That’s why mother has to love Randyll even though she’s always wroth with him.It wasn’t really Randyll’s fault that what he said caused Prickon to attack Nym…_

_Randyll never would’ve tried to trick one of his uncles into killing someone.Actually, he’s usually never even mean to people unless he thinks they are trying to mess up something that might make one of our parents proud of him.And he’s to weak to commit kinslaying besides.Someone tricked him into lying about Nym, most like._

_Robar isn’t smart enough to pull off something like that and father’s far too craven even try.If it had been Domeric and mother ever found out, she’d kill him, most like.Our grandfather could definitely do it, but for some reason, he only tortures mother by playing games with her emotions.He doesn’t seem to like Nym very much, but it’s not like he would gain anything from her death either.That means it must have been Lord Snow.I bet he was wroth with Nym for standing up for me whenever Robar, Skinner, and him try to pick on me.I always thought it was better to just let mother and Nym go on believing that Randyll was responsible for what happened.If they both hate Randyll then that means more attention for me!Hmm…I hope I didn’t make a mistake by letting Nym get so attached to someone else._

_Mother does try really hard to take care of me and has always been there whenever I needed her so it would be better if she didn’t suffer when she died.Maybe…maybe I can think of a way that would be so quick and painless that she would be dead long before she even knew what was happening.It wouldn’t have to be a messy accident either!I would really be doing Nym a favor if I “helped” our mother fall down a big flight of stairs and break her neck.Nym might never realize it, but she would be a lot happier if our mother was dead.She wouldn’t be worrying herself to death like this._ Royce bit his lip. 

_No, it would upset Nym too much if something like that happened…even if it was for the best.She really loves our mother and it would destroy her if mother actually died. It wouldn’t even matter how it happened, most like.I…I couldn’t do that to her.If I ever let anything bad happen to our mother, then I would deserve to go to whichever of the Seven Hells is for brothers who hurt their little sisters._

_And mother has always loved me besides.I guess that should probably matter…somehow.Mother probably would say that sharing the same blood is also important, but that’s dumb.Oh well..._

“Helloooooo?ROYCE!” _Oh right, Nym asked me a question, didn’t she?_

“What?I mean…umm…I’m sure mother’s fine.She can take care of herself, I promise.And some good came out of our miscommunication besides.Mother’s finally going to stand up to our grandfather.I’d have thought you’d be happy about that.You should really be thanking me for causing all of this to happen,” added Royce. 

“Thanking you?For what?You got both of our uncles killed and you didn’t even help me calm down mother like you said you would.Seven Hells, Royce, I had to stop you from trying to trick her into killing Lord Snow for you.” 

“You’d miss him,” blurted Royce, scratching his head in confusion. _I wouldn’t let anyone treat you the way he treats me.You should want that dumb bastard dead so badly that you don’t care how he gets killed._

“ROYCE, NO!I mean…that’s not the point.I wish he was dead too, but you should have been focusing on helping me make sure mother was okay and didn’t get herself killed.That was all that mattered.It was not the time for you to improvise some hair-brained  – ” 

“It could’ve worked; mother would’ve also killed Domeric if you hadn’t –” 

“I didn’t want her to kill anyone, Royce!Are you even listening to me?Mother needed to understand both of her brothers died because of Lord Bolton and that none of what happened was her fault.And that wasn’t even the worst of it.I can’t believe you tried to prove your trustworthiness to me by almost telling our moth–” 

“So what?Who cares if she found out about –”*SLAP*The youngest Bolton studied her brother for a moment as if trying to decide what to do next.However, Nym had plainly decided upon a course of action by the time that her youngest brother opened his mouth to protest.

“HEY!What was that for?” *SLAP*. 

“OWWW!Stop it!  That one really hurt and –” *SLAP* 

“Are you insane?We would be executed on the spot, most like.If we were lucky, we’d just be sent to The Wall and have to live with the murderers and rapers for the rest of our lives.Well…you would, I’d be sent to the Silent Sisters, but that would be even worse than living at The Wall.I’m too young to die and be remembered forever.Think about it, Royce.I haven’t even done anything yet, so my name can’t very well live on forever, can it?” _Women really can’t control their emotions at all, can they?I hate father too, but he was definitely right about that._

“Mother would never let anyone hurt us and she’s Queen of The North,” replied Royce, rolling his eyes. _I guess mother could still be useful after all; we might still need her protection._

“She would have figured it out on her own if she hadn’t been too upset to worry about what we were saying to each other.And even if mother found out and just didn’t tell anyone, we’d still never be allowed to see each other again,” added Nym. 

“I guess that’s true.I never realized that it would mean that we wouldn’t…I just…umm…I think I understand why you were so upset now.” 

“Good,” the youngest Bolton curtly replied. _That God Qyburn talked about, his name was The Stranger!Okay, Stranger Thing or whatever you’re called, now is your time to shine!If you’re real, then make Nym not wroth with me anymore._

“It’s just…you still hate me, don’t you?You wouldn’t feel embarrassed or ashamed if mother found out, right?”For a moment, Nymeria’s pale, blue eyes were ablaze with a fiery rage that made Royce take a few steps backward in alarm.In truth, the youngest Bolton's eyes looked as though they were about to pop right out of their sockets and go flying across the room. _I’ve never seen Nym look this angry before…_  

“For the last time, I will always hate you, Royce.  I hate you more than anything in the world.I'm extremely wroth with you right now, but I forgive you.  I wouldn't do that unless I really hated you...not after what you did."  

"But I –" 

"I know you were only trying to help, but I just…I really need a little bit of space right now.Okay,” the youngest Bolton asked through clenched teeth.  _I'm glad everything is fine now.  I knew The Stranger was just as real as the rest of The Seven!_

“I understand.Do you want me to come with you?”  

“What part of ‘I need some space’ don’t you under…I mean…umm…no, Royce.I...I just need some time by myself right now.We can talk later.”  
  
“Okaaaaaaay,” sighed Royce. _I guess I can go become God of some more of Qyburn’s little white mice._


	18. Nymeria

_How dare Royce ask me whether or not I still hate him_ , the youngest Bolton silently fumed as she stormed through the courtyard. _I told him that we were going to be okay, but even if I hadn’t, how could that…that…stupid idiot even ask me something like that?If I didn’t hate him, then I wouldn’t have forgiven him for what he did to uncle Brandon or what he said in front of mother.She needed our help and all that half-wit could think about was…arrrggggh.I’ll always hate you, Royce, but you can be the most frustrating person in the world sometimes.It was really sweet of him to say he didn’t care who found out about us, but that was also the craziest thing I’ve ever seen someone do.Royce needs to think before he opens his mouth, else he’ll get us both killed one of these days.No, I won’t let that happen…_

_Uncle Rickon was…broken.It wasn’t his fault he killed uncle Brandon or attacked me.Other people tricked him into doing those things, but it wouldn’t have been so bad if Royce had only gotten him killed without dragging our mother into it.I hope she’s okay._

_Seven Hells, what could he have possibly been thinking?Dead uncles.Is that really his idea of a romantic gesture.And he couldn’t even kill the right uncle besides.If it was Lord Snow, then at least that would’ve made sense, but why would I ever want uncle Brandon dead?I was going to fix him for mother, so she wouldn’t feel like failed her old family anymore._

_Royce had to have thought I would be upset because he tried to lie about it at first.That means that he just wanted both of our uncles dead for some reason no matter how much it upset mother and me, most like.I’m going to have to keep a close eye on Royce from now on.I…I thought I could trust him, but now…NO!I can still change him; I know I can!I…I’ll fix him, it’s just going to take longer than I thought.He can be so sweet when he’s talking about all the great things I’m going to do when I’m Lord of Winterfell or when he’s doing things just because I told him to do them._ The youngest Bolton suddenly realized that she’d wandered into Winterfell’s glass garden.Nymeria tilted her head in confusion and frowned as she studied Randyll’s various plants. 

_I don’t know how anyone could possibly enjoy gardening.It’s not just that it takes too long, there are plenty of fun hobbies that require patience and it’s important to be able to wait a long time to get things you want besides.Even if it only took a couple of days for plants to grow, gardening is so…pointless.Plants aren’t cute like cats and dogs and they’re never happy to see you besides.They don’t think which means that you can’t train them to be better than they are, they don’t actually do anything or try to make you happy, and Randyll won’t get any credit for growing them, most like.Plants can’t thank you for caring for them.If…if Randyll hadn’t tricked uncle Rickon into trying to kill me then none of this would’ve ever happened.I should pull out all of his stupid plants right now and…no, it would be better to have Royce do it.I just have to make sure he knows not to damage anyone else’s while he’s doing it._

_I hate this stupid glass garden!Why did I even come in here?Mother probably needs my help right now and I’m wasting precious time thinking about a bunch of dumb plants.They’re just useless things that empty-head fools like to look at because they’re pretty on the outside.When I’m Lord of Winterfell, I’m going to tear down the whole glass garden or at least have it converted into something useful like an outdoor playroom for my children or…something.FOCUS!There has to be a way for me to help mother._

_I never should have let her talk to Lord Bolton alone, she…she could be dead and it would be all my fault.I’d have killed her…What if Lord Bolton breaks her and makes her into…into…whatever Lord Snow did to uncle Brandon.NO!Mother is the strongest person in Westeros and she’s already survived much and more besides.She could crush Lord Bolton like an ant as easily as I could swat a fly if it annoyed me,_ the youngest Bolton decided, wiping away the tears that had started dribbling down her cheeks. 

_Mother, aunt Lyanna, and Royce are the only people I need and they’ve always believed in me.I wonder if I can make the Iron Islanders return anyone in aunt Lyanna’s family who is still alive.She lived at Winterfell when I was little and it was like having an older sister who was also my best friend…then I got older and it was more like having a second mother.Aunt Lyanna’s family is dead, most like, but if any of them survived then the least I can do is reunite her with them.No one could be as loving and supportive as mother, but aunt Lyanna comes closer than anyone else ever could, most like.I wish she was at Winterfell right now.I couldn’t talk to her about Royce, but she’d have been able to go with mother this morning.I should be there and…no, Royce is right.I’d just get in the way and all Lord Bolton would have to do to make mother back down is make some sort of vague threat to hurt me.It won’t work as well if I’m not in the room, most like._

_I hope I can make The North a better place for everyone living here and still have time to be near as good a mother as the one I’ve had._ _At least I can’t possibly be a worse parent than father was; he’s always hated me.No matter how hard I tried, nothing I did was ever…At least mother will always love me and aunt Lyanna has been a better parent than father could ever hope to be!Who cares whether that craven jerk likes me or not anyway?Mother said it doesn’t matter what father thinks because you can’t let anyone stand in your way.Ever.If they try to stop you from doing something, then you just have to break their legs so that they can’t stand in your way anymore.And father deserves to die for what he did to mother besides.I can’t do it though; what ever Domeric is, he’s still my father.Mother is always telling Royce and Randyll about how no man is half so accursed as a kinslayer; she never told me because she trusts me to already know that, most like.I won’t let her down.Never!She’ll be so proud of me when she sees how I’ve saved The North and refused to let anyone stop me.Please Old Gods, you have to make my father die a really painful death someday; I want…mother needs to know that he paid for what he did to her.She needs to see him die; I can’t be the one to kill him for her, but if you’re listening…_

_Seven Hells, now I’m even more upset than I was before!How did I go from a bunch of useless plants to hoping my father suffers a lot when he dies as punishment for the times he raped my mother.This isn’t working!I wish…I wish there was someone I could talk to about all of this without having to worry about them telling anyone.Royce isn’t a very good listener; not even when he tries…and he hardly ever tries.Usually he has one thing on his mind and it’s not what I’m talking about, but when does listen…how could I not hate someone who would do anything to anyone on whim without question just to see me smile for a few seconds.When he’s being sweet instead of just thinking about how much he wants me to do really gross things to him; he treats me the way I deserve to be treated.No one treats me like that, not even mother and aunt Lyanna.Royce treats me like a God and…NO!I am supposed to be wroth with you right now, Royce.Can’t you just…just stop making me feel so confused?Seven Hells, you’re the most frustrating person in Westeros sometimes; I am NOT supposed to lose control of my feelings like this.It’s one thing to tell people what you think, but I should be able to decide how I feel.I can’t even make up my mind about how I feel right now and…I mean…umm…I…I hate this stupid glass garden!I hate it!I hate the way I feel right now looking at Randyll’s useless flowers!I hate it!I hate it!I hate it!It’s a pointless, superficial place, and I hate it!_

“I’ll deal with you later,” Nymeria muttered, glaring at the largest of Randyll’s plants.The youngest Bolton turned around and tilted her head upon hearing the sound of Lord Snow’s dogs barking excitedly. _I’ve never actually been inside the kennels before.It was always the bastard’s place, but maybe the hounds are friendly when he’s not around.And Lord Snow won’t wake up for a while besides.There are probably some really cute pups in there and I bet I could do a better job training them than Lord Snow did with his most obedient hound!Maybe I can even teach his bloodhounds to listen to me from now on and start biting him…_

_…_

Nymeria cautiously peered inside Winterfell’s kennels and let out a small sigh of relief upon seeing that Lord Snow was nowhere to be found. _I knew he’d still be asleep.I don’t know why everyone’s so scared to come in here when the bastard isn’t around.Dogs are good animals and they only hurt people because he forces them to, most like.Gross!It smells like something died in here._ However, the moment that the youngest Bolton set foot in the kennels, the hounds’ excited yelps turned to vicious snarls and thesome of the dogs even leapt up at the bars of their cages, their eyes wild with savage ferocity.The sudden shift in the animals’ mood caused the youngest Bolton to stagger backward in surprise and she barely avoided slipping on the wet, mud-soaked soil…by simply losing her balance and falling flat on her face instead. _Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…_ _I’ll just take get a closer look at the dogs and then I’ll leave,_ Nym decided, wiping the mud off her face and picking herself up off the ground. 

*GRRRRRRR*

“It’s okay.Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.Shhhhhhhhhhh.Calm down, so I can pet you.You want to be scratched behind your ears, don’t you?Then you’ve got to stop growling at me, silly,” cooed Nymeria in a calm, cheerful voice. 

*GRRRRRRRRRRR**CLANG**CLANG**GRRRRRR*Another bloodhound leapt up on its hind-legs and pressed its muscular body against the metal bars of the large kennel that seemed to hold roughly half of Lord Snow’s female bloodhounds.There were four other kennels: another – also on the left side of the room – for the rest of the females and three on the right which housed the pups, the males, and a small girl’s corpse, respectively.The child’s severed head was covered with ants. 

_Wait…is she…but…but what if…are the stories about him hunting people actually true?I…I thought mother was just trying to scare us because she was afraid Lord Snow would get his claws into Royce, Randyll, and me like he did with Robar.I don’t feel very good; I mean…I just…I feel…I…I…_ The youngest Bolton bent down began wheezing uncontrollably, but fortunately she hadn’t broken her fast yet, so there was nothing to throw up. _Pull yourself together!You knew what that bastard was and you’ve seen people die before besides.Everything’s fine; it’s just a dead body that Lord Snow decided to leave in one of the kennels to rot for some reason.And that girl will get justice once I rule The…once I’m Lord of Winterfell besides._

_Royce is going to be king of The North, but I’ll have made him see reason by then.He can be so sweet, loving, and loyal sometimes that there has to be a good person in there trying to get out…even if he makes horrid mistakes sometimes.I can change him!He…he’ll change for me.I bet that by this time next year, Royce will be kind to everyone he meets unless I tell him they need to die for the good of The North…well…maybe not that quickly, but it will happen…someday.And Royce is getting much smarter besides.That means he’ll make fewer stupid mistakes, most like.He knows that I’ll be remembered forever as the best Lord of Winterfell in the entire history of The North.Royce has to be smarter than most people if he can already tell that I’m destined to be the greatest ruler that…Winterfell has ever had.Seven Hells, how am I supposed to concentrate with that awful stench and all of these flies buzzing around?_

Nymeria steeled herself and looked directly at the dead child until she was no more frightened of the corpse than she would’ve been of a tree branch. _I have to be able to handle seeing horrid things like this if I’m going to make The North a better place.I have to be strong enough not to be frightened by the cruelty of my enemies and to do terrible things myself – even to people who don’t deserve to die – if it’s the only way to create a world without people like Ramsay.I wish I didn’t have to learn how to hurt people, but how I feel about myself is nothing when weighed against all the innocent people I’ll save.I could’ve saved mother too if I’d been Lord of Winterfell when she was little._

_Mother is the best person ever to set foot on Plantetos and she always will be, but she isn’t strong enough to fix The North…at least not by herself.I bet she’d be proud of me for doing it though; mother said not to let anyone stand in my way and I won’t!This pointless cruelty needs to stop; that poor little girl couldn’t possibly have done anything to deserve such a horrid death.I don’t want to kill or even hurt anyone, but you can’t plant a garden unless you’re willing to get your hands dirty planting the seeds.Not that again…stupid plants!It’s hard enough to focus with all of these dogs growling at me.They don’t know any better, but even so…_

_Well…anyway, aunt Lyanna had the right of it, most like.No matter how many times she tried to explain to mother that the Iron Islanders had an evil culture which couldn’t coexist peacefully with any normal civilization, mother never seemed to take the idea of invading the Iron Islands to force them to abandon their savage customs seriously.That was the only time I ever saw them have a real fight about something.Mother said that you can’t hold a whole House, group of people, or culture responsible for the crimes of a few bad apples, but Aunt Lyanna explained it to me when I was little.She said the Iron Born weren’t a few bad apples because the whole bushel was rotten and that they were water Wildlings who kidnapped her entire family because Iron Islanders are part of an evil race that thinks it’s okay to rape, kill, or enslave people for no reason.They all deserve to die and it’s really a mercy to spare them at all.Showing those savages the error of their ways is the Northman’s burden.Aunt Lyanna probably just explained it to mother the wrong way since they both hate the Iron Islanders._

_The Iron Islanders are no better than the Wildlings and they don’t even keep The Old Gods besides!Aunt Lyanna said they burned down Winterfell back when the Starks ruled The North because they were wroth about not finding any Stark children to chop up for their soup.She probably exaggerated a little bit to make it a better story, but they say the Skagosi eat people…_

_Aunt Lyanna also explained that doing something that seems cruel to people who don’t understand it – like Iron Islanders who weren’t even born when her family was kidnapped – doesn’t always make you a bad person because everyone has times when they must needs do things they don’t like.She said that I was going to do great things someday no matter what my father said and that I needed to understand that being as hard as you have to be with people like the Iron Islanders just means that you’re strong enough to protect the people you care about; it’s being as ruthless as you can get away with that’s evil.I was only a little girl, but she…she told me that I was strong enough to protect the people I loved…that I could protect mother from getting hurt ever again.Aunt Lyanna made me swear that I would do my best to make sure the Iron Islanders did’t destroy any other families and I’m going to keep that prom…wait a minute…what was that?Someone else is…please don’t be Ramsay!Not him!Not right now!Please, Old Gods, don’t let it be him!_

“What are you doin’ here?Don’t ya’ know whose hounds these is, ya’ bloody fool?Ya’ lookin’ to be in their bellies by the end of feedin’ time, girl,” rasped a rough voice from behind the youngest Bolton. _At least that wasn’t Skinner or Lord Snow’s voice…_ Nymeria slowly turned around and saw an old man with grizzled hair which lent him an odd sort of dignity which the youngest Bolton had never seen in any of Lord Snow’s other servants.Despite his haggard appearance, tired eyes, and calm demeanor, the man had a presence that immediately signaled to any astute observer that not only had he seen much and more in his day, but that this was a man whose words warranted close attention…at least, so far as Nymeria was concerned.  
  
“Who…who are you?I’ve never seen you at Winterfell before.”  

“Name’s Ben Bones, now will ya’ get yer bloody arse out of here before Lord Ramsay returns.Don’t tell me yer name, don’t care.I’ll try and keep Lord Ramsay away if he shows up while yer here, but we isn’t friends.Why isn’t you scared?Bloody fool of a child.You some kind of half-wit?Ya’ want to end up like yer friend over there?When I find out the name of the fools who let their child wander into the kennels…Don’t worry, I isn’t gonna tell anyone about this if you don’t, now run along and get lost.Seven Hells, if I have to find yer bloody idiot parents for ya’, I’ll see to it you get a good beatin’ and do it meself if yer useless kin is too weak to discipline ya’ properly.” 

“My name is Nymeria Bolton of Winterfell.My parents are Domeric Bolton of The Dreadfort, King of The North and Lord of Winterfell, and Arya Bolton of Winterfell, the Queen of The North.My father is an idiot, but my mother isn’t and if you harm a single hair on my head then she’ll have you flayed to death…if you’re lucky.And Ramsay Snow is a bastard, not a Lord.Shall I tell you about the rest of my kin or are you going to run along before I decide to personally see to it that you are disciplined properly,” Nymeria calmly replied, taking great care to hide her curiosity about the strange old man who plainly didn’t recognize her anymore than she did him.The man seemed bored at first…until he noticed the youngest Bolton’s pale, blue eyes; after that, all of Ben Bones’ courage abandoned him as his annoyance turned to fear.

“Seven Hells, if Lord Ramsay finds out you was here alone and that I didn’t tell him so he could feed you to his girls, he’ll skin me alive.At least what’s left of me after His and Her Grace is finished.And if Lord Bolton learns I spoke to one of his kin that way…Of all the curses the wretched Gods could’ve sent, I had to insult and threaten a bloody Bolton.Please, My Grace…Yer Lady…whatever it is you want to be called, leave and don’t tell anyone about any of this.Yer kin will –”

“It sounds to me like we shouldn’t tell anyone I was here.I don’t want to leave quite yet though, so why don’t you show me which hounds its safe for me to play with.It couldn’t hurt to apologize for how you spoke to me,” added Nym.Much to the youngest Bolton’s surprise, Ben Bones didn’t throw himself at her feet and beg forgiveness despite the fact that he was plainly terrified of her kin; instead he seemed to stand taller than most of the smallfolk in House Bolton’s service at Winterfell despite his old age. 

“Very well,” sighed the kennelmaster, “but I won’t be beggin’ yer forgiveness like some blubberin’ lickspittle neither.I ain’t done nothin’ wrong and if you was anythin’ like Lord Ramsay then you woulda’ started playin’ games about whether you was gonna tell yer kin what I said to you, but I don’t think you want them to find out you was here neither.And I woulda’ been savin’ yer bloody life if you wasn’t highborn besides.Course, Lord Ramsay would still take ya’ huntin’ if he was the only one what knew you was here.” _I’m glad Ben Bones isn’t some stupid lickspittle.He hasn’t called me ‘my Lady’ either; I don’t even think he’s going to kneel either.I wonder if…maybe we can be friends.I’d be kinder to him than Lord Snow was and I don’t think he likes the bastard either…even if he’s afraid of him.I wonder if Ben Bones would stand up to the bastard if he knew he was being protected by mother.I’ll have to talk to her about that and I need to learn more about Ben Bones before I can trust him besides.Seven Hells, I don’t know how those poor dogs can stand the smell of that poor girl…what’s left of her, at least._

“Why haven’t I ever seen you before?I know who most of the servants are and I’ve never heard anyone even mention that we had a kennelmaster.Lord Snow said that he raised his hounds all by himself.” 

“He would say that,” muttered Ben Bones, spitting at the ground.“I raised each and every one of these pups meself.Lord Ramsay hardly sees ‘em except when he wants to hunt some poor girl, but he makes me live with his bitches –” 

“Don’t call them that!”For his part, the kennelmaster simply rolled his eyes. 

“Fine, he makes me stay in the kennels with his hounds.Happy now?What was I even…oh right, if any of the girls he hunts have enough spirit to give him a good hunt then Lord Ramsay will name one of the pups in the next litter after her.Course, then he gives the pups to me and says to make sure they is ready for huntin’ by the time they get big enough.”The kennelmaster noticed that Nymeria couldn’t help glancing at the poor little girl in the farthest kennel and frowned.“Suppose you’ll be wantin’ to know about her, that the way of it?Don’t bother denyin’ it; I can tell yer curious.You may not remember, but you called Lord Ramsay a ‘bastard’ to his face a few days ago.I promise you that he still remembers…remembers everyone what ever called him that, most like.He couldn’t kill you on account of how His and Her Grace is yer parents, but he could do whatever he pleased to the first child he found in Winter Town what looked anything like you.He was so wroth about not bein’ able to kill yer whole House besides Prince Robar that he didn’t even bother flaying this one.” _Whoever you are, I…I’m sorry you died like this.I didn’t mean to get you killed and…well…it wasn’t my fault, but I wish it hadn’t happened.I’ll get justice for you when I’m Lord of Winterfell though.Don’t worry about the fact that you can’t thank me, I’m sure you’d tell me all about how grateful you were if that bastard hadn’t killed you._

“Oh.How long has it been since the newest litter of pups was born,” asked the youngest Bolton with a mischievous smirk. 

“About a fortnight.  Why?” 

“If my mother were to tell you that one of the pups from that litter was to be given to me so it could be my pet and then told Lord Snow that he would be held personally responsible for any injury the animal suffered regardless of whether or not it was his fault…you would have no choice except to comply, would you?I’m sure as Lord Snow’s humble servant, you’d hate to do anything to displease him…only my mother is the Queen of The North, so there would be nothing you could do.Isn’t that right?” 

“Aye, suppose that’s right.Course, it’d still be a bloody fool of a thing to do, so best not be gettin’ any more half-witted ideas.”For her part, the youngest Bolton simply shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes at Winterfell’s kennelmaster. 

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.I could just take one right now if I wanted; I won’t though because that would be stealing.Oh and I’ve been meaning to ask how you got stuck serving the Bastard of Winterfell.” 

“Remind me again why I haven’t picked you up and thrown you out of the kennels for yer own good yet?” 

“Probably because I might completely misunderstand the situation and get so scared that I end up telling my mother you were trying to hurt me.I don’t think she’d like it when I told her that you put your hands on me, especially if there was no one else in the kennels.Is that a good reason?If you don’t think that could happen, I can start crying.It’s not hard…or it was never hard for me.” 

“That’s right, it’s because everyone in yer bloody house would kill any man what said or did anything they didn’t like…or just because it was a Tuesday.Bloody Boltons.” 

“Hey!My mother wouldn’t kill someone for no reason and neither would I.My mother would NEVER hurt someone for telling her the truth either, even if it was something she didn’t want to hear.” 

“That so,” the kennelmaster asked bitterly before spitting at the ground in disgust. 

“Yes!My mother is the best person in The North, so you’d better not talk about her like that ever again!And if I actually wanted you dead; you wouldn’t still be alive.That was just a threat!And it’s not just my mother and me, aunt Lyanna wouldn’t –”  

“Who?”  

“Lyanna Mormont, she –”  

“Isn’t a Bolton.”  

“Shut up!And my brother Royce isn’t…well…my mother and I aren’t like that.And aunt Lyanna is more of a Bolton than that evil bastard who tortured…I mean…more of a Bolton than Lord Snow could ever be!Seven Hells, Royce needs to stop thinking about himself all the time!I am sick of him hurting people I care about!I bet the only really reason he’s nice to me is…AAAAARRRRGGGGH!Why can’t you just be nicer, Royce? If I didn’t hate him so much, I’d grab him by the throat and –” 

“I don’t want to hear this,” snapped Ben Bones. 

“I don’t care!I’m going to be Lord of Winterfell someday and my parents are the King and Queen of The North.You’re a kennelmaster, so you’re going to listen to whatever I have to say until I feel better.What if…what if something’s wrong with me?What if I only hate…what if it’s because of how Royce is?I might actually be making him worse or…or even hurting him somehow and part of me might enjoy it.But why would that make me feel…NO!I am going to be the best Lord of Winterfell there ever was; there’s nothing wrong with me.There can’t be!Too many people are going to need me someday and –”  

“This sounds like the sort of information what you really ain’t supposed to be sharin’ with me,” wheezed the kennelmaster, all but begging the youngest Bolton to stop talking. 

“Should I have your tongue out?” 

“I’d rather you didn’t.” 

“Then don’t repeat any of this!See?Problem solved!This is making me feel much better, but I’m still angry, so we’re going to keep talking until I say I have nothing else to say to you.Any questions?No?Good.” 

“I’m glad you didn’t inherit any of yer kin’s…eccentricities.Some Lord of Winterfell you’ll make,” grunted the kennelmaster, rolling his eyes. _Ben Bones can already tell I’m going to be Lord of Winterfell someday?He sees that much potential in me?I already know what I’m going to do when I’m mother’s age, but I didn’t think my brilliance would come through so clearly that even the smallfolk would be able to tell that I’m destined for greatness.I bet Ben Bones one of the smartest, most smallfolk in Winterfell and…wait a minute!Was that a jape?_  

“Shut up!I mean…shouldn’t you be…umm…cowering in fear right now or…something?” 

“Probably,” replied Ben Bones with a shrug.“Course, knowin’ you lot, if you meant me any harm, you’d have been doin’ more than rantin’ and ravin’ like a bawling child.”Nymeria frowned and yet somehow, it kept getting harder and harder to be wroth with her new friend…even as her pent up rage refused to be silenced.

“It’s not too late for Royce.Robar and Randyll are one thing, but I won’t let Royce die a monster like Lord Bolton.If that evil old bastard EVER puts another idea like this into my brother’s head again, I’ll…I’ll open his –”

“THAT’S IT!Enough!I CAN’T be hearin’ this!For yer sake, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it, but not another word about that.Understand?” 

“But you don’t even know what I’m going to say yet,” mumbled the youngest Bolton. _At least I finally got all of that off my chest…I didn’t realize I was THAT wroth with Royce, but I feel a lot better now._

“Yes, I do.Now shut yer bloody mouth before you force me to tell someone.” 

“But I wasn’t finished talk–” 

“I don’t care.Seven Hells, yer plainly smart enough to know better than to run yer mouth like this.I see why yer bloody mother –” 

“Why she what?” 

“Nothing.” 

“That didn’t sound like nothing.It sounded like something important that you were hiding from me.I don’t like…wait a minute…you haven’t called me ‘my lady;’ how did you know that I don’t like being called that,” asked the youngest Bolton in a voice as flat as a wooden board, her pale, blue eyes narrowing with predatory suspicion. 

“Do you want to look at the pups from the newest litter?Are you still interested in takin’ one for yerself?”No sooner had the kennelmaster finished speaking then every hint of menace and distrust vanished from the youngest Bolton’s face as quickly as it had arrived. 

“YES!I’ll be really quiet!And I won’t take very long either; I just have to go look at the pups and decide which one I want most!Can I have two?Pleeeeeeaaaaaase?I won’t bother you again for a two whole days if you let me take two pups.” 

“Two days for two of Lord Ramsay’s pups?Is that a jape?” 

“Okay, two pups for one whole week of peace and quiet before I come back to play with Lord Snow’s friendliest bloodhounds.Do we have a deal,” asked the youngest Bolton, giving her new friend her widest smile.  
  
“Seven Hells, yer goin’ to be the death of me, bloody pink terror of a child.Just pick one and get out of here before Lord Ramsay returns.” 

“Fiiiiiiiiiine.Would you be willing to help me train Lord Snow’s bloodhounds to eat him the next time he goes hunt–” 

“Stop talkin’ like you got less sense than Prince Robar.” 

“How do you know so much about me and my kin?” 

“I keep my bloody mouth shut and listen to what’s happenin’ around me.You should try it.” 

“I’ll think about it,” replied Nymeria before racing off towards a kennel that held at least twenty happily yapping bloodhound pups. 

“I don’t care if she pays me money for spyin’ on that bastard instead of just makin’ threats like Lord Bolton; the bloody Queen never said nothin’ about bein’ no bloody babysitter.Makin’ sure Lord Ramsay never moved against Her Grace’s brats without her knowledge was one thing, but somethin’ like this is gonna cost her extra from now on,” muttered Ben Bones.  
  
“What did you say?” 

“I said that little girls who ask about things what doesn’t concern them none don’t get no pups of their very own and –” 

“Nevermind.I didn’t hear anything!Shutting up!Whatever it is, I promise not to tell anyone!It doesn’t even matter anyway, most like.Can you hear how quiet I’m being?” 

“Close enough,” grunted the kennelmaster. 


	19. Arya

There was a time when the Queen of The North would have spent the rest of the day – mayhaps even the next few days – crippled by a suffocating fear of what Lord Bolton might do to her children after their confrontation in Bran’s chambers, but those days were gone…never to return.  This time Arya did not fall into a downward spiral of self-loathing; instead, the Queen of The North remained as calm as still water as she made her away back to her chambers.  _I wish I didn’t need Domeric’s help, but at least he’ll be too craven to tell me ‘no,’ most like.  I need…my children need me to do whatever it takes to protect them, even if it means asking Domeric for his help._

 

_Lord Bolton can have everything else, but not them!  My children are all going to grow up to be good people…even Randyll._   As the Queen of The North approached the doorway, she could hear Randyll babbling to his father about how it wasn’t too late for…something.  _Seven Hells, Randyll, what did you do now,_ Arya silently fumed as she stormed into her chambers.  For his part, Domeric turned as white as sheet the moment he saw his wife enter the room.  _Can’t you at least pretend not to be such a craven?_

 

“I’m glad your here, mother!  I was talking to father and he’s decided to –”  

 

“Not now, Randyll.  I don’t know what you’re so excited about, but it will have to wait,” Arya calmly replied without bothering to so much as look at her second son as she spoke to him.  For some reason, her words had not only failed to diminish Randyll’s excitement, but they seemed to come as a great relief to the King of The North.  _You didn’t want me to hear what you and Randyll were talking about, did you?_

 

“But father wants to –”  

 

“Your father is a man grown.  I know it may be hard to believe given how often Lord Bolton’s voice comes out of his mouth, but he can speak for himself which means you shouldn’t be speaking at all.  I must needs speak to your father alone.  If you leave now, mayhaps you’ll still be able to find time today to make yourself useful instead of lying about –”  

 

“My father always preferred to signal his displeasure by simply looking Ramsay and I directly in the eye, but I trust he would appreciate your method.  It accomplishes the same purpose, I think.  In truth, you remind me of him a great deal; he has taught you well, I think,” muttered Domeric.  

 

“What did you just say?”  

 

“Your tone leads me to conclude that you heard me quite clearly, but I would be happy to repeat myself if you wish.”  

 

“If you ever compare me to your father again, I will make you even less of a man than you already are; do you under…Seven Hells, Randyll!  I’m not actually going to –”  _I didn’t mean to make you start crying._

 

“LIAR!  You were going to hurt father and all he wants to do is…is apologize.  I told him that he didn’t *sniff* have to be like his grand…grandfather and…and…and that…that you would  understand, but this is…now you’re fighting and it’s my fault for wanting the two of you to actually listen to each other for once and…I HATE THIS BLOODY FAMILY!  ALL OF YOU!  I…I hate it!  I hate how we treat each other!”  As tears  began slowly dribbling down the second eldest Bolton’s cheeks, the Queen of The North found herself ever more lost in her thoughts.  In truth, it was the only way to keep from rolling her eyes in disgust at the sight of her son wallowing in self-pity.  

 

_I should’ve been able to do more to help Randyll.  He never would have told those horrid lies about Nymeria if I’d done a better job of teaching him right from wrong, most like.  At least Nym is going to grow up to be a good person; she’s the sweetest, kindest, and most loving daughter any parent could possibly hope for and I…I don’t deserve don’t deserve to be as proud or as happy as she’s made me.  Not after the things I’ve done…   She’s what I could have…what I should’ve been._

 

_When they were little, I’d hoped…I used to think it would be Randyll who she’d get along best with, not Royce.  Nym was always nicer to Royce than either of his older brothers when he came back from Winterfell, but Randyll and her were thick as thieves when they were little.  Royce and Nym have been inseparable ever since Randyll tricked Rickon into attacking her though; Nym might not have been able to react in time to dodge Rickon’s knife if Royce hadn’t pushed her out of her seat._

 

_Randyll and him are going to be good people someday, but it doesn’t come as naturally to them as it does to Robar and Nymeria.  I should have…I can still help Randyll; it’s not too late._ Arya bit her lip as she tried to ignore the guilt causing her heart to beat like a giant pounding on a drum with all its might.  The Queen of The North tried to apologize to Randyll, to reassure him that everything would be alright and tell him how much she cared about him, but the words came out wrong.  They always did.  

 

“Of course it’s your fault, Randyll.  Mayhaps your father and I wouldn’t be fighting right now if you’d left when you were told instead of staying where you’re not wanted.  In truth, that’s one of the few things you’re good at: showing up when no one wants you around.  And stop crying; you shouldn’t –”  

 

“You will be silent,” seethed Domeric in a tone that caused the Queen of The North to take a step backward in surprise.  _He’s never spoken to anyone that way before, not even Nymeria…_   “You will not ruin our son; Randyll is the only person in Winterfell who hasn’t done anything to deserve such treatment, I think.”  

 

“He tried to trick Rickon into murdering our daught–”  

 

“I don’t care if he murdered her with his bare hands; you will not speak to our son that way again.  No matter what you may chose to think of our son, a blind man could see that he had nothing to do with whatever it was that happened the day your brother went mad.  Why should I forgive the creature you saw fit to inflict upon me for being born when you can’t even forgive our son for something he plainly had nothing to do with?”  

 

“That I inflicted on…you raped me!” 

“I assure you that I would not have claimed my rights as your lord husband were the decision mine.  What would you have had me do when my father ordered me to see to it that you gave him two healthy male grandchildren?”  

 

“For once in your miserable life, you could have said ‘no.’  You’re supposed to be the King of The North and you let Lord Bolton humiliate you day after day without so much as a word of protest.  He’ll always wish Ramsay were his trueborn son no matter how horrid a monster you’ve become trying to please him,” snapped Arya.    

 

“You of all people should know that disobeying my father is never as simple as saying ‘no.’  Tell me, after everything my father did to House Stark, why is it that you never murdered him in his sleep?  It was not for want of opportunity, I think.  I’ll grant you that wolves oft seem to have a louder bark than leeches, but I have yet to meet one that did not whimper at the sight of my father’s displeasure and run off with its tail between its legs the moment he gave it permission to do so.  If defying my father is as easy as you say, why haven’t you done it already?”  

 

“I did.  That reminds me, I need you to put all of the guards in Winterfell under the command of someone with no loyalty to your father.”  

 

“Is that so?  Am I to believe that a wolf can learn to bite its enemies in old age,” chuckled the King of The North.  

 

“I’ve made a list of acceptable names for you to choose from if you want to pretend that you have any say in the matter.”  

 

“What is it that you would have me believe you said to my father?”  

 

“Lots of things.  I told him that we were going burn down everything he cared about while he was still living and leave him with nothing except a legacy of ashes.  He believed me when I told him that you had decided that he was the one who needed adjustments,” Arya lied.  In truth, it took all of the Queen of The North’s self-restraint not to smile at the fear on her husband’s face.  

 

“Do you have any idea what he’ll –”  

 

“Lord Bolton was going to hurt Royce and Nymeria; I’ll die before I let that happen.”  

  
“At this rate, you may get your wish,” mumbled Domeric.  

 

“He’s also planning to do something horrid to Robar, but…you wouldn’t understand.  If you were a real father to even one of our children then you’d be just as wroth with Lord Bolton as I am.”

 

“What I want matters not at all.  If it did, I wouldn’t be forced to join you in this madness before father has a chance to make adjustments to both of us along with the three children you were supposed to have.”  

 

“We have four children!” 

 

“I don’t recall granting you permission to have a daughter.  It matters not at all; I agree that father should not be permitted to harm Randyll, Royce, or Robar.  Of course, that wretched creature whom you shower with praise every time it opens its lying mouth is another matter entirely.”  

 

“Nymeria is the best thing either of us have ever made and…wait, I didn’t mean…Seven Hells, Domeric, look what you made me do!  Randyll, you know that I love you and all three of your siblings equally.  I’ll always…did you just roll your eyes at me?”  

 

“You tolerate me,” grunted Randyll.  

 

“What do you mean I tolerate you?”  

 

“I mean that on the good days you tolerate my presence.  On the bad days, you can’t even be bothered to do that much.”  

 

“Have you and Robar both gone mad?  Do you have any idea how much I have sacrificed for you?”  

 

“You mean how much you sacrificed for Nym, Royce, and Robar?  What?  If you’re both going to fight then I want in!  We can fight too, mother.  It’s all anyone ever does in this bloody place and at least you’re paying attention to me right now for once.  Why don’t you just admit that you wish I’d never even been born and –”  

 

“Mind your tongue, Randyll,” muttered the King of The North.    

 

“Don’t worry, I just have one more question.  Can you name one time where you ever sacrificed something you cared about just for me?  Just one time, mother, that’s all.  Not for Robar or Royce or my precious, wonderful, adorable spoiled brat of a younger sister who can apparently do no wrong even though she’d throw herself out a window if she didn’t have someone to lord over.  Which reminds me, did you know what Royce and Nym have been –”  

 

“NO!  I…I’M NOT LISTENING!  I don’t want to hear a single word about them from you.  Whatever it is, I don’t believe you!”  _I knew there was something strange about the way that Nym and Royce talked to each other, but Randyll’s making it sound like something horrid.  I…I don’t think he’s lying either or…not all of what he’s about to say is a lie, most like.  Please, whatever it is, don’t let it be Nym’s fault!  Royce would be bad enough, but I always knew there was a chance that he might do something horrid one day after what he did to that poor cat.  Nymeria though…  Please, Old Gods, don’t let Randyll know some sort of horrid secret about her.  No matter what he thinks he knows, there’s nothing that could make me stop loving Nymeria, but if…if she…whatever horrid lie Randyll’s going to tell about her, I don’t want to hear it.  I don’t care if it’s true or not; it’s just another Bolton lie that I_ _have to protect Nym from_ , Arya decided as the room began to grow watery.  

  
“Go on, Randyll.  What is it you were going to say about your younger siblings,” asked Domeric.  At first Randyll said nothing as he carefully studied his mother, but when the second son of Arya and Domeric Bolton finally spoke, the Queen of The North couldn’t help letting out a small sigh of relief.    

 

“Nothing, father.  I…I was so wroth with mother that going to make up a horrid lie about Nym and Royce to hurt her, but…I’m sorry.”  _I knew there was still hope for Randyll; I can still teach him how to be a good person.  He’s starting to get better.  And Nymeria would never do anything horrid enough to be cause for concern.  Royce wouldn’t either, most like._ “I didn’t mean to make you cry, mother and I didn’t mean any of what I said earlier either.  I…I’m sorry.”  _Yes, you did._  

 

“Thank you for being honest with me.  I…I’m proud of you for telling the truth…even if it’s the first time an honest word ever came out of your mouth.”  

 

“How is it that you managed even manage to turn compliments into insults whenever you speak to me?”  

 

“I said I was proud of you, Randyll.  You of all people should know better than to try to twist your kin’s words like that and…I don’t have time to argue with you about this right now.”  The Queen of The North bit her lip and turned her attention to the so-called King of The North.  “I know that you don’t care about our daughter, but for our sons’ sakes – for Randyll’s – you need to put someone dependable in charge of guards and other men-at-arms in Winter–”  

 

“As you say.  Very well, I shall place all of our guards under Skinner’s command.”  _Are you insane?  Why not legitimize Ramsay and publicly declare him to be your heir while you’re at it?_

 

“You can’t be serious.”  

 

“He is loyal to me, not my father or Ramsay.  There is no more dependable man in Winterfell, I think.  I’ll grant you that the man has an unfortunate tendency to act the fool a bit to convincingly for my taste, but I fear not every man in my service can have a Maester’s intellect.”  

 

“He’s not loyal to me,” blurted Arya. 

“I know.  I would not have chosen him were it otherwise.”  

 

“If Skinner was spying on everyone for you, then I’d already know about it.  Do you really expect me to believe that you would try to set up some sort of secret spy ring in Winterfell without Lord Bolton’s permission?  Next you’ll tell me that you’ve always looked for ways to undermine your father and –”  

 

“I instructed Ramsay to take Royce to Barrowtown because father told me to send one of our children to be fostered there.  I let him believe that I was already inclined to send our daughter there so that he would not order me to do so.  In truth, I would rather that Nymeria spent the rest of her days at Barrowtown, but I thought it might ease your pain to have a little girl…even an unwanted one.  I doubt you will ever thank me for –”  

 

“Liar!” 

“Believe what you wish; it matters not at all.  What does matter is that while I do not know precisely what you said to my father, I doubt it left you in a position to refuse whatever help I am willing to offer.”  As much as Arya hated to admit it, she could not deny that the bald bastard was right: she would need whatever help from him she could get.  “And one more thing, I shall consider forgiving our daughter for being born if you can demonstrate to me that you have forgiven our son Randyll for whatever foolishness you believe him to be responsible for, else I fear I shall be forced to continue speaking my mind to that wretch…to our daughter,” added the King of The North, grimacing in disgust as though simply speaking word ‘daughter’ made him want to empty his stomach all over the stone floor.  

 

“I can try,” grumbled Arya, storming out of the room.  _I regret this already…_

 

…  

 

_I just need to find Lord Snow, go to Rickon’s cell, and get this over with,_ Arya silently fumed as she roamed Winterfell’s hallways in search of the so-called Lord of The Hornwood.  The Queen of The North had searched the bastard’s chambers twice, but in truth, it was as though he had vanished from Winterfell without a trace.  I suppose it’s only natural that he’d disappear the one time that I actually need him for something.  In the end, while Arya couldn’t find Lord Snow, she did find someone who never failed to light up even her darkest days.  

 

“MOTHER,” exclaimed Nymeria, racing up to the Queen of The North and looking as though she were about to burst out of her skin with excitement.  “Can I please have one of the pups from Red Alyse’s litter?  Just one?  Pleeeeaaaaaaase?  I already know which one I want!  I’m going to name her Visenya and I promise that I can train her all by myself.  Pleeeeeaaaaaseee, just one little pup.  I’ll take really good care of her too.  It won’t create any extra work for you; you’ll see!  I can handle the responsibility, mother.  I’ll be a woman grown soon.”  For her part, the Queen of The North soon found that it was near impossible to stay upset for long when such an excited child was around.  This is not to say that Arya’s daughter hadn’t given her cause for alarm, quite the opposite.  

 

“How could you know whether one of the bastard’s dogs had just given birth to a new…Nym, you weren’t in the kennels…were you?”  

 

“Yes, but it’s fine; no one was there except Ben Bones.  I saw Lord Snow going towards the kennels when I was leaving, but he looked really tired and didn’t see me.” 

“I’m very…surprised the kennelmaster let you get so close to those dogs,” muttered the Queen of The North.  _What part of “under no circumstances are any of my children ever to set foot in Winterfell’s kennels and if I ever learn that they have then I will hold you personally responsible” doesn’t Ben Bones understand?  I’m going to have a very long talk with him about this…_

 

“Ben Bones and me are friends now.  He’s not so bad…well, he can be really annoying sometimes, but he’s not a lickspittle like most of the servants at Winterfell who just pretend to be nice to my brothers and me.  They think just because they don’t see anyone around that they can whisper about how much better The North was when the Starks lived at Winterfell, but I have really good hearing and I’ve been keeping a list of whose voices I’ve heard saying –”   

 

“That’s great, just…umm…please don’t go in the kennels again.”  

 

“Why not?  If I don’t go back, then I won’t see Ben Bones anymore and he’s already one of my best friends at Winterfell.”  _WHAT?  I said to keep her out of trouble, not to become her new best friend for life.  Seven Hells, now I’ll never be able to keep her from going back to the kennels, most like.  How did they even manage to befriend each other?  I always assumed they’d hate each other if they ever actually met._   “And the pups are really friendly too!  I was even able to talk Ben Bones into letting me play with them for a little while.  The pups were all wagging their tails because of how excited they were to see me.  It was like being surrounded by a crowd of adoring subjects!  Sometimes I wish more people acted like well-trained dogs when I told them to do things.  Not you or aunt Lyanna, but certain other people.”  _I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that…_   

 

“Riiiiiight.  I know you’re really excited right now, but I need you to listen to me very carefully, Nymeria.  You can’t go in the kennels ever again.”  

 

“What?  Why?  You’re the Queen of The North, so you could just order Lord Snow to stay out of the kennels if you wanted and he’d have to listen to you.  Domeric won’t argue with you about that, most like.”  

 

“It’s important to know how to choose your battles and –”  

 

“Lord Ramsay just murdered an innocent little girl and left her severed head in the kennels.  And what if he tried to train his hounds to attack me or one of my brothers?  Ben Bones seemed worried about that which might have been why he let me play with the pups: so they’d get used to thinking of me as a friend as early as possible.  It seemed to be working since my face and hands were all wet by the time the pups finished licking me, but I don’t think visiting them once was enough.”  _Seven Hells, now I have to do something about the kennels.  Lord Snow can’t keep dead children at Winterfell._

 

_I see that barely suppressed smile.  I’m going to find away to keep the bastard away from any of the hounds that he hasn’t already trained, but I hope you know that I know exactly what you’re doing.  I let you get away with much and more because of how much I love you, but nothing you do gets past me.  I wonder if this is what mother meant when she used to say that she hoped I had a daughter who listened to me as well as I listened to her…_  

 

“Nym, have I ever told you that you’re too smart for your own good,” sighed the Queen of The North.    

 

“You said that your mother used to say that to you all the time.”  

 

“I know.  Sometimes you remind me of myself when I was your age.”  

 

“I…I remind you of yourself at my age?  Really,” asked the youngest Bolton looking as happy as Arya had ever seen her.  In truth, Nym looked as though The Old Gods had just spoken directly to her and called her their equal.  

 

“Of course.  You and Randyll always did…”  Arya bit her lip.  

  
“Randyll?”  

 

“You’re going to be better than me someday,” added Arya, hoping that The Old Gods would be merciful enough to permit her to change the subject and reinforce her daughter’s sense of self-worth with a single sentence.  

 

“What do you mean?  You’ve always told me I’m going to do great things someday and that I’ll be able to make The North a better place for everyone as long as I don’t let anyone stand in my way, but I didn’t know you meant…what do you mean, mother?  I’m going to be just like you when I’m your age.”  Arya smiled lovingly and shook her head, much to her daughter’s evident dismay.  

 

“You’re not going to be like me when you grow up.”  

 

“But…but I…please, just give me one more chance and…don’t give up on me, mother.  I didn’t mean to fail you!”  

 

“You couldn’t fail me if you tried, Nym.  Don’t you know that by now?”  

 

“But you said I won’t be like –”  

 

“Every child stands on their parents’ shoulders and you’ll stand on mine someday.  My life…it didn’t turn out the way I hoped when I was your age.  You’ve seen how I have to fight tooth and nail every day with people like Lord Bolton and your father so that you and your brothers can have a future, never mind a better one…and you know what happened to most of my kin.  Sacrificing your hopes and dreams, the pain of losing each of your parents and siblings one by one…and not being able to save any of them, having to change who you are to appease the worst monsters in Westeros, that’s not what I want for you.  I don’t want you to be broken like me.”  

 

“But you’re not –”  

 

“You’re a good person, Nym, and I know Westeros is going to be a better place because you are in it, but I don’t want you to repeat my mistakes.  If you must needs make mistakes, then at least make new ones so that your children can stand on your shoulders someday.”  

 

“You don’t have to worry about me making mistakes, mother,” replied the youngest Bolton with a touch too much confidence for Arya’s liking.  “And I’m not going to lose any of the good people in my family besides.  I promise not to let anyone hurt you; I swear it by The Old Gods and The New!  But if…if you don’t want me to be like you, then what do you want me to be like?”  

 

“I love you exactly the way you are, but I don’t want you to let people like Lord Bolton or Lord Snow stand in your way and if they try, then you need to do whatever is necessary to defeat them.  You need to be stronger than I was; I had to change in order to make sure that you and your brothers would be safe, but I…I don’t want you to let anyone make you sacrifice your dreams.  You don’t have to negotiate compromises with monsters the way I did and that means you can simply slay a dragon instead of forcing yourself to stomach living under its wing.  I want people to tell me on my deathbed that my daughter saved The North and I know they will,” replied Arya with a gentle smile.  

 

“I…I think I understand.  I promise to do whatever I have to in order to save The North and to never let anyone stand in my way…no matter who they are!  So can I have Visenya, pleeaaaaaaase?”  

 

“I have to go to the kennels to find Lord Snow anyway, so…I supposed you can.  It won’t officially belong to you for a while though; I want you to prove you can handle the long-term responsibility.”  The moment she finished speaking, the Queen of The North found herself trapped in a bear hug. 

“Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!  You’re the best mother in the history of Westeros!”  

 

“I love you too, Nym,” Arya replied, although Nym was plainly far too excited to truly process her mother’s words.  “There’s just one condition…”  

  
“Just tell me and I promise it’s as good as done!”  

 

“I need you to forgive Randyll for what he tried to make Rickon do to you.  I…I don’t know if he was completely responsible or if I’ll ever be able to forgive him.  I haven’t treated him the way I meant to though.  You don’t have to forgive him now, but someday – mayhaps not for many years – when the time his right, can you give him one more chance?”  The youngest Bolton tilted her head and in truth she looked far more confused than upset, much to her mother’s relief.  

 

“Why do I have to do it?  Can’t you forgive him?  I’m still wroth with him.”  

 

“Do you remember what I said about how I wanted you to be better than me, Nym?  Whatever happened that day, I don’t think Randyll meant to hurt you…not really.  I don’t know why he told that horrid lie, but could you please try to forgive him someday?  He’s still your brother and –”  

 

“Fiiiiiiiiiine, if Randyll ever proves that he really deserves a second chance then I’ll give him one, but I’m only doing this because I can tell how important it is to you.  It won’t be for a very long time, most like.”  

 

“That’s all I’m asking; I’m very proud of you, Nym.  So which pup should I tell Ben Bones to bring you?”  

 

“Oh, I almost forgot!  Thank you again, mother!  Tell Ben Bones I want the one that Lord Snow had originally named ‘Nym.’”  Arya bit her lip.  

 

“Ramsay, he…he named one of the pups after you?”  

 

“No, Ben Bones said the little girl whose head Lord Snow cut off was named Nymella, but the bastard kept calling her ‘Nym.’  It was my fault…what happened to that girl, she’d still be alive right now if I’d never been born,” sighed Nymeria.  The youngest Bolton let go of her mother, took a few steps back, and looked down at the ground in shame.  In truth, the poor girl looked as though she were trying to keep herself from crying through sheer force of will.  

 

“I don’t want you going anywhere near Lord Snow unless I’m in the room with you.  Do you understand?  Nymeria, this is really important!  I need you to promise me that –”  

 

“I…I know what it means when he names pups after people, mother.  I was really scared at first, but then I realized that it doesn’t matter what Lord Snow wants to do to me.  You’d never let anyone hurt me.  You’ll always keep me and my brothers safe just like you always have…just like I’ll always protect you from anyone who tries to hurt you.  And I’m going to re-name the pup Visenya besides.”  

 

…

 

For his part, Lord Snow took the news of losing a pup and being forbidden from interacting in any way with any non-adult hounds.  It was also made clear to the bastard that any harm which might mysteriously befall any of the pups would be inflicted upon him, but once again, the so-called Lord of The Hornwood didn’t offer so much as a word of protest.  In truth, he hardly said a word during the trip to Rickon’s cell…well, he yawned a great deal and seemed very tired.  It was almost as though the bastard had been drugged, but whether that was the case mattered not at all.  

 

“Just *yawn* be quick about *yawn* about it,” grumbled Lord Snow.  

 

“I see you’ve brought a friend,” muttered Rickon.  

 

“Lord Snow is not my…wait a minute…I don’t need to explain to explain myself to you.  Not after what you did to our brother.”  

 

“MY brother, Queen Leech!”  

 

“Bran is –” 

 

“Reek,” growled Lord Snow, looking more alert than he had all morning.  “What happened?  Did that *yawn* that little shit do something to my Reek?”

 

“SHUT UP,” both Starks shouted in unison.  

 

“Bran is more my brother than yours, kinslayer!  How could you do that to your own kin?  And when there are so few of us left…  I don’t want to argue with you.  I don’t want to look at you.  I don’t want talk to you.  I don’t even want to think about you ever again,” seethed the Queen of The North.  

 

“I’m not a kinslayer.  I didn’t murder anyone; I saved Bran from the Boltons…from people like you, Queen Leech.  And you’re in no position to use that word after what you did to Robb and mother at the Red Wedding besides.”  

 

“Who *yawn* died,” asked Lord Snow.  _Please Old Gods, just let him stay like this until we’ve left…_

 

“No one you cared about,” replied Arya.  “And don’t EVER mention the Red Wedding to me, kinslayer.” 

“BURN IN HELL, QUEEN LEECH!  I should’ve killed that evil monster you brought into the world when she bit me.  Why don’t you let me out and I’ll make you a rug.  You seem quite fond of walking all over the corpses of your family members.”  

 

“Mayhaps you *yawn* Starks aren’t *yawn* all bad,” sneered Lord Snow, rubbing his eyes.  “This one is really starting to grow on *yawn* me.”  

 

“Get out…now,” growled the Queen of The North before giving the bastard such a violently furious look that for once the blue-eyed monster did exactly as he was bid without argument.  

 

“Oh look,” shouted Rickon, “we’re at the best part.  You’re starting to cry, Queen Leech.  Is that why your new best friend had to leave?  Is your traitor tongue having trouble deciding what lies to spread?   That’s okay, I know how this story goes!  This is the part where you break down in tears and tell me that you love me so much that you’ve done some other horrid thing to convince Lord Bolton to spare my life.  Thank you for generously letting me live out my days in this –”  

 

“I didn’t *sniff* I didn’t lift a finger to save you, kinslayer.  Lord Bolt *sniff* Bolton said he’d *sniff* he’d spare your life if I let Rand *sniff* Randyll take your place, but I told him ‘no.’  The brother I’ve loved every day of my life *sniff* he died in your cell years ago.  Lord Bolton will want your *sniff* your tongue out first, but you *sniff* you’re going to be hung by the neck before *sniff* before the day has ended.  No man is *sniff* no one is as *sniff* as accursed as a kinslayer.”  

 

“What?  You…you’re not actually going to…you really mean that, don’t you?  But that’s wrong; that’s not how the voices said this would go!  I…I don’t want to die.  You weren’t supposed to actually have me killed.  Wait, I…I didn’t mean it!  No matter what, you’re still my sister and I…I…I don’t want to die.  You’re the Queen of The North; you can pardon or…or…you can’t just let them kill me!  I’m not ready!  Please, Bran needed to be saved, but it’s not my time yet.  I was only trying to help my…I mean…our brother.  Let me out right now and this time I’ll prove that I –”  

  
“I’m sorry, but I *sniff* I can’t save you this time…not after what you did to Bran,” sighed Arya, no longer able to look her brother in the eye.  

 

“Please, Arya, I…I’m scared.  WAIT!  Why…why did you even come here if you weren’t going to save me,” asked Rickon, his whole body trembling with fear.   

 

“I wanted *sniff* wanted to let you know that I’ll always *sniff* always love the person you use to be and *sniff* and I came here to *sniff* I came because I *sniff* I’m not going to be there watching when *sniff* when they hang you.  I wanted to see you one more time, but *sniff* but I can’t risk breaking down and trying to stop the sentence from *sniff* from being carried out.  Goodbye, Rickon.”


	20. Randyll

319 A.C. 

It had only been three days since the murder of the late king Domeric of House Bolton, but much and more had already changed.  _At least today can’t be worse than the day after father died; I was the only honest person in Winterfell.  Everyone else was polite and friendly towards everyone they encountered even though it was plain no one could look at anyone else for more than five seconds without wondering whether they were the one who murdered father.  It was like the more people distrusted each other, the wider they smiled.  Lying bastards._

_Robar wouldn’t speak with anyone unless they were the only other person in the room to ensure that everyone would know the last person he spoke to if he were to suddenly drop dead.  Even Nym kept looking at Royce like she hardly recognized him; if those two don’t trust each other anymore then mayhaps something good came from father’s death after all._

_I think mother agrees with me that Lord Arryn was the one who poisoned father.  Even if she chided me for insulting one of our guests by accusing him of breaking the guest right, mother never actually said she thought I was wrong…and she always tells me when she thinks I’m wrong.  At least the worst is over and…Seven Hells, what’s the point of pretending?  Things are only going to keep getting worse, that’s just the way it is at Winterfell,_ Randyll decided as he cautiously entered Winterfell’s Great Hall.  

_Speaking of things getting worse, I see our new king has decided to call his first family meeting.  This can only end well,_ the second eldest Bolton thought to himself with a bitter sigh as he saw that his siblings, Lord Snow, the king and queen of The Vale, the Lady of Bear Island, and a number of armed guards – Skinner among them – were already assembled in the Great Hall.  Visenya’s ears perked up the moment Randyll entered the room.  

_If only Robar were one year younger; at least then someone smarter than a turnip could be his Regent and try to keep him from getting us all killed.  He’d listen to mother, most like.  I can’t believe that the first thing that bloody idiot did was give Skinner back his old post as commander of Winterfell’s garrison.  Why is Lyanna looking at Robar like he’s the Night’s King come again?  She can’t think…Robar would never hurt one of his own kin.  I can’t remember the last time I was this disappointed in you.  How could Lyanna even think something like that,_ Randyll wondered, frowning at the Lady of Bear Island.

“Is mother alright,” asked Nym.  “You said –”   

“I said there was an urgent matter concerning our mother and that she would be unable to speak with anyone for the foreseeable future.  The reason none of you knew is that I’m king and was the only one who could be trusted with such important information.  And you shouldn’t question your betters besides.” _Oh good, I was afraid Nym’s ego might be getting lonely._

“Even if it were possible to talk to people who don’t exist, I still wouldn’t be questioning my betters, Robar.  I’m questioning you,” replied the youngest Bolton, rolling her eyes.  “If everything was fine then you’d have just told me where mother was instead of putting on some sort of melodramatic mummer’s farce.  You’ve been saying all morning that you’re the only one who knows where she is and can’t tell me until the rest of our family gets to the Great Hall.  We’re all here now.  Even our guests from The Eyrie are here and they’ll never be part of our family,” growled the youngest Bolton, glaring at the Queen of The Vale.  For her part, Lady Sansa looked as though she were trying not to cry although in truth, Randyll could not say whether it was because of something that had happened to her sister or how cruelly Nym had been lashing out at the Queen of The Vale ever since father died.  _All our bloody aunt even did was tell you that you reminded her of mother.  Since when does being compared to our mother make someone your enemy for life?  Seven Hells, Nymeria, what could aunt Sansa have possibly done to you?  What?  Did mother tell you the poor woman bullied her when they were children or something?_   

“I am your king.  Sister or not, you shall refer to me as ‘Your Grace’ and –”  

“You can spend all night calling a rat a cow, but it will still be a rat come morning.” 

“Did you just call me a rat?”  

“What do you think?  You do think, don’t you, Your Grace?  Good.  Now why don’t you start thinking right now and tell me where our mother is; think very carefully because if you let anyone from The Vale hurt her –”  _Robar has been horrid to mother ever since Lord Bolton was murdered by his own bastard, but he’d never actually hurt her…would he?  If Lord Snow told him to…  Seven Hells, I’m starting to sound like Lyanna._   

“Your Grace, surely you don’t intend to let such disrespect go unanswered, do you,” asked Lord Snow with cheerful malice.   

“I was just…umm…I mean…no,” mumbled The King of The North.  

“Good.  Now then, it would appear that one of your subjects has already forgotten her place.  Of course, with the right teacher even the slowest of learners can be taught how to behave in the presence of their betters,” sneered Lord Snow, giving his niece the same predatory grin that Skinner had flashed at Royce mere seconds after being placed in charge of Winterfell’s garrison.  

“Your Grace, Nym didn’t mean any disrespect,” mumbled Royce, plainly too frightened to even look his eldest brother directly in the eye.  “She’s just worried because no one knows where mother is, but we…umm…you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to, Your Grace.  It’s not too important and…what?  What did I do?  I was only trying to –”  

“I…don’t…want…your…help,” the youngest Bolton seethed through tightly clenched teeth, shooting her youngest brother a death glare.  “And our king would do well to show a bit of humility for once.”  _Just when I thought I’d heard everything…_

“Yes, that’s you, Nym: the very image of humility,” grunted Randyll as Lyanna rolled her eyes.  

“Thank you, Randyll.  It’s good to know that I’m not the only person in our family who hasn’t completely lost their…HEY!  Stop laughing!  This isn’t The Eyrie, Pyke, or wherever horrid place you people are from; it’s Winterfell.  The North is a civilized kingdom and that means you don’t just start randomly laughing at people for no reason or…all Randyll did was say that I’m really humble.  That’s not funny!”  _You really hate not being taken seriously, don’t you?  I’ll be sure to remember that the next time you start babbling about how you’re going to be Lord of Winterfell someday.  And I’m certainly not giving the title to you or Royce if something happens to Robar besides.  How many times do I have to tell you that before you finally get it through your bloody head?  Sometimes I wonder how someone so smart can be so dumb._

“You’re right, it’s hilarious!  I didn’t know you made such good funnies, grumpyface,” exclaimed Lord Robin with the cheerfulness of a little boy who’d just gotten his first nameday present.  _And here I was thinking the little shit was going to call me by my name.  How foolish of me,_ Randyll thought to himself with a sigh.

“See, uncle, my sister didn’t mean to be disrespectful to me.  She’s only wroth with Lord Robin,” Robar mumbled without even bothering to look Lord Snow in the eye.  

“Arya’s your mother, Robar.  You should at least pretend to care about her,” muttered Lyanna in a voice so cold it gave Randyll gooseflesh.  

“Seven Hells, not you too,” whined the King of The North.  “I’m the king now and that means everyone is supposed to call me ‘Your Grace.’  Even grandfather used to say that people needed to do that whenever I became king.”  

“As I recall, you did a fine job of reminding Royce of his place when he was just a small child with a big mouth.  Look at him now; he hasn’t disrespected you like the rest of your siblings.  Mayhaps that’s all your sister needs, Your Grace: a little bit of discipline.  Give me a week alone with the bitch and she’ll give you the respect you’re due.  And the two of us already have some unfinished business besides; my right leg was never the same after what she did to it.  If the cunt’s parents had shown up just a few minutes later…well…why waste time dwelling on the past?  I prefer to look ahead to the bright, shining future.  What do you say, my Lady?  Shall we pick up where we left off or…hmm…tell me, have you ever gone hunting before,” asked Lord Snow as his wormy lips curled into a cruel smile.  

For her part, Nymeria seemed to grow smaller and smaller with every word that came out of her half-uncle’s mouth.  In truth, even Robar was plainly displeased by the way the bastard was speaking to his sister by the time she started shaking in fear…not that Lord Snow noticed.  _Nym was so wroth that she wouldn’t speak to Royce for a week after she heard him tell me that I didn’t know what really happened the day Lord Bolton was murdered, but I’ve never seen Nymeria look so frightened of…well…anything.  I’m sure Lord Snow was a kinslayer, but mayhaps the rest of what mother and Nym said was true after all.  If that bastard ever does anything like that to her, I’ll kill him myself whether he’s really tried to do it before or not!_

Royce stiffened and bit his lip, but it was plain that he had no intention of speaking in his sister’s defense.  _I’d better not end up having to put a stop to this madness all by myself because you’re too craven to do anything that might upset Robar!_

“I…I’m not a cunt,” mumbled Nymeria in a voice that barely rose above a whisper before looking down at the ground as though if she stared at her feet long enough then she’d simply disappear and no one would be able to see her anymore.  _You’ve been a cunt ever since uncle Rickon tried to kill you and we both know you’re only pretending not to hate me because you need my help with something, but you’re still a Bolton of Winterfell…and you’re still my sister.  No matter how horrid you and mother have been to me, nothing will ever change that.  Unless they’ve turned kinslayer, a man can’t turn his back on his family any more than he can choose them._

“If you touch even a single hair on Nymeria’s head, you won’t live to regret it,” growled the Lady of Bear Island, placing herself directly between the youngest Bolton and her half-uncle.  The look on Lyanna’s face was like that of a mother bear standing on its hind legs as a final warning to some poor bastard who had made the fatal mistake of venturing too close to one of its cub.  It was more than enough to make Robar sink down into his throne like a frightened child, but failed to silence Lord Arryn’s cackling.  

“Now, now, there’s no need to go through the trouble of threatening me in front of…oh, why even bother trying to count the witness.  I’d be more than happy to think of some fun games for the three of us to play.  We certainly wouldn’t want you to feel excluded, would we?  By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask whether Arya ever told you how she got her scar.  The one running all the way down the right side of her cunt face.  Don’t worry, I’m sure my niece would be more than happy to tell you.  After all, she was there…for all the good it did her mother.”  

“Have I told you the story of how you lost your only good eye?  And Nymeria’s not even your niece besides.  She’s a Bolton and you’re only a bastard.” _Are you auditioning for a place in our bloody shitshow of a family, Lyanna?  You should know better than to take the bait like this after what Robin did to you right before father died.  That was what?  Three days ago?  Lord Snow is just trying to trick you into giving him an excuse to kill you and from the looks of things you’re about to give it to him if you haven’t already._

“Seven Hells, Robar, if you wanted to be treated like a king then you have to maintain order!  Now do something before those two idiots kill each other,” snapped Randyll.  _Why do I always have to clean up after you people?  Are the Old Gods punishing me for being the only sane person in Winterfell?  Is that what this is?  I don’t exist solely for your bloody entertainment!  Stupid Old Gods!_   

“They’re adults; they can work it out amongst themselves.  I shouldn’t have to get involved.”   

“ROBAR!”  

“Fiiiiiiine,” sighed the King of The North sounding far more like a petulant child than a man grown.  “Uncle, you will not make an example out of Lady Mormont and I forbid you from further provoking her.”  

“Did you just give me a command,” blurted Lord Snow.  In truth, the bastard looked too surprised to be wroth with the King of The North.  For a moment, not even Lord Arryn had anything to say.  _Not laughing anymore, are you, Lord Arr…bloody Hell, now he’s looking at me._   _Damn it, Royce!  You should have been the one who got involved, not me or Lyanna._   

“Yes, I…I can’t have favorites now that I’m king.  I have to treat everyone equally.”  _Wait…that actually worked?_   “And…and you’re not allowed to speak to Nym that way either.  I’m going to give you a decree of legitimization, but she’s my sister and still comes before you in the line of succession besides.”  _WHAT?_   Robar glanced nervously at his eldest brother who in turn forced himself to nod in approval at his sad excuse for a king.  

“BOOOOORING,” groaned Lord Arryn.  “Can you tell them about your ugly scarface mother now, horseface?”   

“She has a name,” muttered Sansa.   

“Are you allowed to talk back to me without permission, Sansa?”  

“I can’t hear you, Your Grace.  You’ll have to speak up if you expect anyone to understand a word you’re saying.”  

“This is your last chance, understand?  I said…ARE YOU ALLOWED TO –”  

“No,” snapped the Queen of The Vale.  

“You never answered your sister’s question, Robar,” observed the Lady of Bear Island.  “Where is Arya?”  

“Very well.  I fear Lord Arryn has shown me irrefutable evidence of the sort which I cannot share with any of you that our beloved father died by our mother’s hand.”  _Did he…please, Old Gods, don’t let Robar have been the one who killed father.  If…if Ramsay or Lord Arryn did it and just tricked him somehow into thinking it was mother then maybe…he’s always been a little soft in the head, but if it was him or he knew what one of them was going to do…  What kind of monster would murder his father and then frame his own mother for the crime?_   

“You would say that, wouldn’t you,” muttered Lyanna.  

“What do you…I mean…as I was saying before I was quite rudely interrupted, my mother is alive and well.  She was placed in a special cell last night where she shall remain until such time as she has confessed to her crime.  It would not serve to take the head of one of my kin, so I shall permit her to take The Bla–” 

“LIAR,” screamed Nymeria, her pale, blue eyes burning with murderous rage.  Fortunately, the Lady of Bear Island managed to get a firm grip on the youngest Bolton the moment Nym reached for her flaying knife.  “LET ME GO!  He’s lying!  Mother wouldn’t do that!  Are you insane, Robar?  How could…what the Seven Hells is wrong with you?  If you hurt her, I swear by The Old Gods and The New, I’ll…I mean…I…I’m calm now, aunt Lyanna.  You can let go of me.  Really, I…I only want to talk to Robar very calmly and…I just…let…me…GO!  See how calm I am, right now?  You can let go now, aunt Lyanna!  Mother needs me!  Please, I…I said ‘LET GO,’” shouted the youngest Bolton as she struggled to break free from Lyanna’s grip.  By now, the King of The Vale was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down both of his cheeks.   

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  Horseface has a stupid traitor scarface kinslayer mommy that she’ll never see again. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  You won’t even get say goodbye,” exclaimed Lord Arryn, plainly unaware that his wife was plainly struggling to keep herself from slapping him as he stuck his tongue out at his good-niece.  

“Don’t worry, I’m sure the men of The Watch will be very happy to see your mother.  They don’t see too many women there, do they?  I doubt they’ll be able to contain their…excitement,” added Lord Snow.  _I’m going to kill you someday…_

“BURN IN HELL!”  Visenya suddenly growled and bore her teeth at the bastard.  _Congratulations, Royce; her bloody dog is more loyal than you._

“Your mother needs you, Nym, not a hysterical child.”  

“Great!  Thank you, aunt Lyanna.  I understand, now let go of me!”  

“I’m not letting go until you calm down.  I need…Arya needs you to think before you do something that can’t be undone.  And Robar is still your brother besides.”  

“Lord Ramsay was simply making a bad jape.  Mother’s half-brother is Lord Commander of The Night’s Watch, so I’m sure she’ll be safe,” Robar added nervously.  _Seven Hells, you’ve known our sister her entire bloody life.  Did you really expect Nymeria to go along with whatever idiotic story Lord Snow and the Arryns told you?_   “I assure you that I would never send mother or you to a place where either of you would be in serious danger.”  _Is he also sending Nym somewhere?_

“LIAR!  You…you don’t deserve to be a Bolton!”  

“Do you mean to tell me that out of all of our forebarers and kin, I’m the one whose actions you consider to be a bridge too far?"  

“I mean to tell you that I only have two brothers.  The third died today; do you understand,” asked Nymeria in a voice that made her sound like the empty, broken-down shell of some unfortunate soul who had died many years ago.  _Mayhaps I could convince Robar to let Nym visit mother.  That might calm her down and I’m sure mother would be delighted to see the only one of her children whom she actually wanted.  I’m sure she’s already found an excuse to blame me for what Robar did.  If that spoiled brat really cared about our mother instead of proclaiming her impotent rage to the world, she’d think before she opens her mouth._   “You don’t have to hold on so tightly, aunt Lyanna; I was really calm when I said that.”  

_Nym must be so confused right now.  After all, not getting her way about something is a completely new experience for her, most like.   And Robar plainly values my opinion far more than he does hers besides.  I suppose the shoe doesn’t fit so well when it’s on the other foot._

“Your third brother?  Have you gone soft in the head?  Royce is alive and well; in truth, I imagine he will live to a ripe old age if he remains as quiet and obedient as he has been thus far.”  

“I wasn’t talking about…nevermind.   I want you listen to me very carefully, Robar. I –”  

“Are you almost finished?  I have very important…umm…king things I need to be doing right now.  With any luck our mother has already confessed to her crimes and can be sent to that frozen wasteland before the day is out.”  

“I WISH YOU DIED INSTEAD OF FATHER!” 

“Mind your tongue.  Another word and I fear you’ll force me to begin treating you like a child.  Lord Robin, this isn’t the way you said things were going to go when I became king,” whined Robar.  Randyll glanced at his aunt and noticed that the Queen of The Vale was giving her husband the same look that Nymeria was giving her eldest brother.  _Wait a minute…Lady Sansa hates Lord Arryn too, doesn’t she?  Why hasn’t she said anything about how he treats her?  It even wouldn’t be whining like when mother complained about father.  A woman shouldn’t let her lord husband treat her the way Lord Arryn did when Lady Sansa and him first arrived at Winterfell._

_My parents hated each other, but father never did anything more to mother than say mean things to her when they were arguing.  Mayhaps now that he’s gone, mother will realize that there was nothing wrong with father claiming his rights as her lord husband instead of always complaining about how he took her twice without permission or whatever he’s supposed to have done._  

_I tried to explain that to mother once when I thought she was trying to be nice to me on my ninth nameday, but instead of listening to reason, she just start yelling at me.  Naturally, Nymeria went on her own little rant about how stupid I was being too.  Father always said women were ruled by their emotions, but I don’t understand what there was to be emotional about; all I did was remind mother that father didn’t do anything to her that her own father hadn’t done to her mother on their wedding night and explain that if she hated it that much then she should be grateful that he only claimed his rights twice._

_I was doing her a favor by trying to put things in perspective and explain that father never even did anything wrong.  Lord Bolton and his bastard did a lot of horrid things to mother and her kin, but that’s not father’s fault.  What’s so bad about telling mother that she’d get along better with father if she tried thinking about how the things she says must make him feel?  You have to be able to look at things from other people’s perspectives, else how can you expect understand why they’re acting in ways that don’t make sense to you?_

“Lord Arryn and you were speaking about how things would go when you were king?  When did the two of you have that conversation, Your Grace,” asked the Lady of Bear Island in a timid and deferential tone that should’ve made it plain that her words were a verbal bear trap.  

“Since you are finally treating me with the respect I am due, I shall answer your question.  In truth, you shall always find me to be as accommodating as possible if it is plain to me that you realize I am smart enough to handle the responsibilities that come with being a king all by myself.  Those who want respect must first treat their betters with greater respect.  To answer your question, I received a raven Lord Robin a fortnight ago and –”   

“Your sister is so silly, Robar!  Horseface probably just needs to have things explained to her in a more betterer way,” shouted Lord Robin, walking right up to the youngest Bolton who – much to her second eldest brother’s surprise - made no further effort to escape from Lyanna Mormont’s grip.  “OH!  I have a really good one, horseface! Remember, how I said –”   

“Those who don’t mind their tongues tend not to have one for very long,” growled the Lady of Bear Island.  

“Good job, boring bear lady!  I’m glad you figured it out before I had to tell you to stop talking until you were done being all boring-like by asking about bird messages and your dead family who all got raped to death by the Iron Born because you were too busy hiding to save yourself to help even one of them.  I’m sure they’d have tried to save you and I’d have done anything to save my mother when she was alive.  Even if it were impossible, I still would’ve finded a way…or at least tried to help them, but I guess you never valued your family the way I did,” sighed Lord Arryn.  “I wonder if your mother and sisters knew that the reason they were salt wives for the rest of their short lives was that the littlest bear lady of all didn’t love them enough to try and save even one of them because protecting them was just too scary, so she couldn’t be bothered.  Now THAT is a fun story!  I don’t tell it oft enough!”  

“OWWWWWW!  Aunt Lyanna, you’re…OWWWWW!  Too tight,” whined the youngest Bolton.  

“Sorry,” grunted Lyanna through tightly clenched teeth.  

“Anyway, enough about boring bear ladies!  Stop being so boring or I’ll put you in a timeout!  Stupid bear ladies being all boring-like and…and…umm…and…I hate bears!  OH!  I almost forgetted like a big old silly!  Guess what, horseface?  Me and your giant king brother decided you’ll be much happier at The Eyrie so he said you could be betrotheled my son.”  

“What the Seven Hells is wrong with you?  Are you trying to banish your entire family,” growled Lyanna.   

“It’s for her own good.”   

“You mean you were too craven to tell Lord Arryn ‘no,’” countered Randyll, rolling his eyes.  

“I thought you’d at least understand,” sighed the King of The North, frowning at his eldest brother.  “If our sister can’t even be bothered to pretend to treat me with the respect I’m due then I fear that there is simply no place for her in The North.  If it puts a distance between her and our uncle, so much the better.  Nym will thank me when she’s older, I think,” replied Robar.  _At least you have the decency to be too ashamed to look me in the eye when you say that.  I know our sister is a bossy, arrogant, manipulative spoiled brat who lives to lord over everyone in sight, but she’s still a Bolton of Winterfell._

_Look at Lyanna, she’s plainly having a hard time keeping herself from letting go of Nym so our sister can open your throat with the flaying knife mother gave her.  Ask Lord Snow how he got his limp if you don’t believe that Nymeria knows how to use that thing…  Why do you even want a marriage alliance with House Arryn?  It would be one thing to get Nymeria out of Winterfell as soon as possible; I’m all for that.  There’s no reason not to marry her off to the son of one of our bannerman, but Lord Arryn’s son?  After The Vale invaded us and killed Gods know how many Northmen for no reason?  If Lyanna is this wroth with you about what you’ve done, how do you think the rest of our bannermen will react?  That will spark an open revolt amongst our bannermen, most like._

“I don’t know why everyone says girls are like breeding horses.  That’s so silly!  Horses are for riding, everyone knows that!  And you can’t breed with a horse besides.  My mother said babies come from storks when The Seven want to reward someone with a reminder of how much their…umm…falcon loves them even if he never says so when people are around and talks about her sister a lot.”  

“This was not how I wanted Nymeria to find out about –”

“Girls are cows, not horses; that’s why they have chest udders,” added Lord Arryn, grinning like a cat with some poor mouse pinned by tail beneath one of its paws and silencing the King of The North simply by holding up his right index finger.  By now, the King of The Vale was looking the youngest Bolton directly in the eye as he spoke.  “I know you have a stupid ugly horseface just like your dumb scar-faced mother, but you’re a cow just like Sansa and my mother.  Lord Ramsay told me about what you did…and what almost happened to you and your mother when he caught you.”  The youngest Bolton didn’t reply to the King of The Vale, although her pale, blue eyes grew more watery with each word that came out of the giggling monster’s mouth.  Royce bit his lip so hard that it bled and Lyanna shot Robar a death glare, but the Lord of The Vale was plainly unimpressed.  

“That’s enough,” muttered Sansa under her breath.  If Lord Arryn heard his wife’s words, he showed no sign and drew even closer to the youngest Bolton.  

“I also wanted to ask you about one teensy weensy little thing that Ramsay the snowman didn’t mention to you, horseface.  It’s about something that is going to happen to you when we’re at The Eyrie and it won’t work unless I can tell when you’re in season.  Girls are cows, so they can be hand-milked or even mouth-milked.  Have you ever been milked before?”  Robar opened his mouth to make some sort of feeble protest, but Lord Arryn simply rolled his eyes.  

For her part, Nymeria did not answer her good-uncle’s question; instead, she made a strange noise that sounded not unlike a cat quietly hissing.  _The fuck was that?  Seven Hells, Royce looks even more frightened of Nym right now than he did of Robar and Lord Snow.  Do I even want to know what this is all about?_

Suddenly, Visenya began snarling at Lord Arryn, charged at him, and tackled him to the ground before anyone in the Great Hall had time to react.  The King of The Vale screamed and sobbed as the bloodhound tore off his member in one bite before spitting out the stem and stones, calmly walked away from its victim, sat back down on the stone floor, and yawned lazily.  Lyanna – plainly as shocked as everyone else in the room – loosened her grip just enough for Nym to break free and race over to her favorite bloodhound which in turn began happily wagging its tail. 

For some reason, not one of Lord Arryn’s guards so much as lifted a finger to help their king as he rolled around on the ground, howling in pain.  Even as a small red pool of blood began to stain the floor, none of the men under Lord Snow’s command – or Skinner’s, for that matter – did more than quietly snicker at Lord Arryn’s screams and sobs.  While the second eldest son of Domeric and Arya Bolton was never one to revel in the pain an enemy who was truly suffering, Randyll found that he could not help allowing himself the smallest of smirks at the sight before him.  Even Lady Sansa and Lord Snow looked relieved by the sight of Lord Arryn slowly bleeding to death on the floor, although Lyanna and Robar were both stone-faced.   

Royce looked terrified, but he’d been acting as though he were afraid of everything except his own shadow ever since Robar had been crowned.  _Everyone in The Vale hated Lord Arryn, most like.  Why did they put up with him for so long?  Were the Knights of The Vale all afraid of him or was he somehow worth more to them dead than alive?  Mayhaps Lord Arryn just decided the governing part of being a king was boring and let them rule through him while he terrorized people whose support he didn’t need in order to stay king._

“Skinner, kill that…thing,” gasped the King of The North.  Nymeria darted in front of her pet only to be shoved out of the way by the head of Winterfell’s garrison.  Visenya snarled and bore her teeth at Grunt, but by then it mattered not at all.  Nym bolted up from the ground as Skinner sliced open Visenya’s throat with a quick flick of his dagger, causing a wave of blood to spray directly into the youngest Bolton’s face and before long there were two sets of screams echoing through Winterfell’s Great Hall.  

As his skin turned deathly pale and the pool of blood around him grew, Lord Arryn’s screams turned into a frightened whimper as though it had suddenly dawned on the King of The Vale that there was no Maester rushing to save him before he bled to death.  For her part, Nymeria slumped to the ground and began gently cradling her dead dog’s head in her lap like a newborn babe while bitter tears rolled down both her cheeks.  

“I *sniff* I’m sorry, Visenya.  It’s my fault you’re dead.  You were just a nice, loyal, and friend *sniff* friendly dog who was trying to pro *sniff* protect me, but I trained you to *sniff* to do that.  It was only supposed *sniff* supposed to be if someone was *sniff* going to…like when Lord Snow *sniff* when *sniff* when he *sniff* I didn’t mean to make you do that, Visenya.  I was just really worried about mother and then he *sniff* and they *sniff* were making me so wroth that I couldn’t even think and then *sniff* and then *sniff* when he asked *sniff* the bastard –”  In that moment, however they felt about their sister and one another, all three sons of Domeric and Arya Bolton plainly had at least one thing in common: an intense hatred for the wormy-lipped monster who had tried to do something horrid enough to their younger sister that it had left her in such a terrified state years later.   

“What did you just call me, you lying cunt?  I don’t care what horseshit story you’re bawling about; if you call me that again, you’ll see that bitch of yours sooner than you –”  

“Ramsay, listen to me very carefully.  There has been a change in plans.  You shall ride for the The Dreadfort immediately and remain there as Castellan until I tell you to return to Winterfell.  The day will come soon enough, but until then, I fear I shall have no further need of your wise counsel.  From now on, Locke shall report directly to you.  I expect you to be gone within the hour.  I no longer think it wise to appoint you Hand of The King either, uncle.  I believe my brother Randyll has proven himself far better suited for the position’s current demands than you,” Robar coldly murmured, staring at his half-uncle with tranquil fury.  _About time you stood up for someone in our family even if it was the least of us…_  

“He *sniff* mentioned milking when *sniff* and if mother hadn’t woken up when she did *sniff* he *sniff* he would have *sniff* I’m sorry, Visenya!  I never meant for you to *sniff* I’m sorry!  Mother gave *sniff* gave you to me and when *sniff* when she’s gone I’ll have nothing left to rem *sniff* remember her by and it’s *sniff* it’s all my fault,” wailed the youngest Bolton.  

“Careful, Your Grace.  You’ve been like a son to me in the past, but even fathers oft find themselves forced to discipline ungrateful children…and my father taught me many ways to make whatever adjustments are needed.”  

“You’d best mind your own tongue, my lord.  I have always loved you like a father, but…but if you talk to me that way again then I fear I may come to love you as I did my father.”  _As you did your father?  You…you did kill him, didn’t you?  You may’ve had help, but…you were the one killed him…  Why?  How could…you’re cursed for the rest of time, Robar!  That’s why you’re king; Lyanna always said that when the Old Gods want to destroy someone, they’ll oft do it by giving the person the thing they want most.  He’s going to be remembered as the worst king in the history of The North.  Lyanna already figured it out, most like._   For a moment, Lord Snow looked as though he was about to strike Robar, but – plainly thinking better of it – ultimately stormed out of the room muttering to himself.  

“Thank you *sniff* Robar,” mumbled the youngest Bolton.  

“You’re welcome.  I trust you will remember that for more than ten seconds.”  

“Why wouldn’t I?”  

“Skinner, I want you to find her other two pups and kill both of –”  

“Wait, Robar!  I…I’m sorry for what I said before; I don’t actually wish you were dead!  I didn’t mean it!  Please, just…just let mother go and…and…and you can still be my brother.  I take back what I said about you not deserving to be a Bolton, just don’t hurt either of my pups!  Robar, I’m sorry!  Robar?  Robar?  They’re just two innocent pups who can’t even understand what’s happening or why.  I was supposed to take care of them, not get them killed!  Please, don’t hurt them,” Nymeria frantically pled as the fear that had been in her voice only moments ago turned to panic.  

“Those creatures are a menace.  You already violated the guest right by having one of them murder Lord Arryn by unmanning him.  Did you think I had forgotten the sight of a man’s corpse – a man whom I have been exchanging ravens with for over a year – lying on the floor in a pool of blood?  Some Northmen still heed the laws of Gods and Men even if they plainly mean little and less to you.”   

“Lord Arryn violated the guest right first by implying that he was going to milk your sister like a bloody cow, so the fault for Nymeria’s actions – as foolish as they were – lies with your Sothron friend.  The guest right is a duty that applies to guests and well as to their hosts, idiot,” snapped Lyanna.  Robar – plainly doing his best to imitate his half-uncle – simply yawned in an overly dramatic fashion.  

“Both pups are to be killed immediately.  As for you, dear sister, you shall be taken to a cell until your trial.  Since you’re so concerned about our kinslayer mother, I’ll have you put in a cell right across from hers.  The two of you have been so cruel to Randyll over the years that it seems only fitting to place him in charge of supervising the two of you.”  _Don’t drag me into this, kinslayer!_  

The youngest Bolton slumped to the ground in defeat and did not utter a word of protest nor did she lift her pale, blue eyes from the ground as two men-at-arms dragged her out of the room.  In truth, it was as though her eldest brother had simply broken her will to fight, but Randyll knew better.  _That was too easy…  The Old Gods have already started playing with Robar and he doesn’t even know it,_ Randyll realized.   

“Listen to me very carefully, Robar,” said the Lady of Bear Island.  “I know what you did and –”  

“That’s…I mean…what…umm…what do you mean?  There’s nothing to know, but what…which thing do you think you know about?  Not that I’ve done anything wrong, but if I had –”

“I mean that I will bite my tongue if you will make me three promises…and remain true to your word for the rest of your days.  I don’t think you’re going to have me killed for no reason other than that my words frighten you.  Whatever you are, you’ll never be Lord Snow.”  

“I can still be like him someday!  You’ll see, I –”  

“Seven Hells, Robar, that wasn’t an insult.  It was the only nice thing I’ll ever be able to say to you after today.  I don’t think you’ll just kill me in cold blood when I haven’t done you any harm.  I’ve known you since you were too young to speak.  Granted it took you longer than most, but you also learned to walk at an earlier age than your younger siblings.  How that slow, but sweet and kind-hearted little boy grew up to be…you, I’ll never know,” sighed Lyanna.  “Mayhaps you simply weren’t wise enough to handle the life of a Crown Prince, but –”

“I am not stupid!  Lord Arryn wrote seven months ago that he could already tell that I was smart enough to handle being king all by myself.  He said…he said I just needed the right opportunity to prove that I wasn’t dumb like you all think I am.  My uncle agreed with him and he’s known me my whole life.  I’m your king and I deserve to be treated with respect!  What do you think it’s like to be the Crown Prince to one of the most powerful kingdoms on Planetos and spend your entire life being treated like a fool by your own bloody family while your House’s bannermen snicker about how you’re a half-wit when they think you’re not listening?  Mother was the worst of you people; she never noticed how clever I was even though I was the only one of her sons who ever criticized father to his face for raping her twice.  Naturally, I was the only one whom she didn’t shower with constant praise.  The only thanks I ever got was that she always wanted one of my younger siblings to babysit me like I was some half-wit who would find himself completely in-over-his-head the second he was allowed to make an important decision without adult supervision.  Even if Nym was telling the whole truth about what happened when grandfather was murdered – and I’d bet my life that she wasn’t, even if she was plainly being more honest than I thought – I was the only one smart enough to figure out that either mother, Royce, or Nymeria was responsible for grandfather’s death.  Uncle Ramsay wouldn’t kill his own father and I don’t care how many of you people say he did it!  One of those three is a kinslayer and Royce has always been far too soft to ever harm a fly, so it wasn’t him, most like.  Did anyone pay attention to me?  Of course not, I’m the only person in my House who isn’t showered with more praise than they know what to do with.  I didn’t notice that mother was disrespecting me until grandfather explained it when I was younger, but now I know what she thinks of me…what all of you people think of me and I have as good a memory as any of you!”  _Seven Hells!_   

“You can’t be serious,” Randyll and Royce blurted in unison.  In truth, even Lady Sansa was looking at her eldest nephew as though he’d grown a second head.  

“That’s the one thing uncle Ramsay always understood that none of you ever did,” continued the King of The North, “he realized how clever I was when I was just a little boy and he oft told me so.  Whatever his other faults, that’s more than any of you ever did.  I am the king and that means you all have to treat me with respect because I finally did something none of you thought I could all by myself!”  

“And you believed that,” sighed Lyanna suddenly looking at Robar as though he were almost too pathetic to remain wroth with…almost.  “I mean…it doesn’t matter.  My three conditions are that you swear not to harm a hair on your mother or your siblings heads, that if your mummer’s farce of a trial finds Arya or Nym “guilty” of whatever imaginary crimes you plan to charge them with then you’ll simply send them to live on Bear Island in lieu of any other punishment, and that you swear that every Iron Islander will always be your bitter enemy.  If you do these three things then I…I will force myself to remain a loyal bannerwoman.  Otherwise, you’d best kill me right now because if you don’t swear by the Old Gods and The New that you’ll do what I ask then I will make sure that every lord in Westeros knows what you’ve done.  Then I will raise an army and kill you myself, do you hear me,” asked the Lady of Bear Island, silently staring at the King of The North in much the same way Lord Bolton and Arya would oft stare at those who had angered them.  

“Very well.  I swear it by The Old Gods and The New…now get out of my castle,” snapped Robar, awkwardly shifting about in his seat.  

“Gladly,” muttered Lyanna as it dawned upon Randyll that his brother was likely the only person in Winterfell who didn’t realize just how many bridges the kinslayer had burned during his first three days as king. 


	21. Nymeria

Ordinarily, the youngest Bolton would’ve taken careful note of which two men-at-arms were dragging her towards the hidden cells that had once housed men such as Rickon Stark and Mors Umber, but this was no ordinary day…and there were far more dangerous enemies lurking in Winterfell than two men-at-arms who were simply following orders besides.  _I…I’m sorry, Visenya.  You were the best dog anyone could’ve ever wanted, but I had to make you attack Lord Arryn.  I’m sorry; I know you didn’t deserve to die, but I hope you can forgive me…someday.  Please let Visenya be in a better place, Old Gods.  I wouldn’t have gotten her killed unless there was no other way, but too many innocent Northerners need me to save them from themselves.  Idon’t have the luxury of being selfish…_

 

_Everyone in The North needs me to watch over them…to do their thinking for them…to protect them from monsters like Lord Snow the same way I used to protect Royce when we were little.  I couldn’t just abandon my future subjects by letting myself be sent away to The Vale by the turncloak and forced to marry that evil dwarf’s stupid son.  It would’ve been selfish of me to let myself be sent to The Eyrie just because I didn’t want to sacrifice my favorite dog._

 

_I have a duty to protect my future subjects from their own cruelty and they have a duty to be eternally grateful to me for how much I’ve sacrificed for them!  I’m the only person who is strong enough to do whatever is necessary to create a world where no one else will ever have to make these sorts of sacrifices…where little girls won’t lose their heads just because some highborn child called someone a bastard.  I…I couldn’t save mother from Lord Bolton; I was born too late for that, but I can make sure no more children will suffer the way she’s suffered.  It has to be me; I’m the only one who can save them!_

 

_Mother and me are both good enough people to rule Westeros without letting the power go to our heads, but not even mother is as strong as I am and she’s the best person who has ever ever set foot in Westeros…the only one who is a better person than I could ever hope to be.  Aunt Lyanna is strong enough and she’s near as good a person as mother and me, but not quite…and that means she could still be corrupted by the sort of power I’m going to have when I’m Lord of Winterfell.  She’d try to remove the Iron Islanders’ cultural rot by killing them all, most like.  It might be too late for some of the adults, but the Water Wildlings deserve a chance to be turned into a civilized people by their betters and I can definitely fix the children.  The Iron Islanders might not be a civilized race the way Northerners are, but cleansing the Iron Islands of its cultural rot is the northman’s burden.  She’d still kill them all if she could, most like and that’s enough reason for her not to rule The North.  Only the Water Wildlings who refuse keep The Old Gods, behave like decent people. and serve the civilized races of Westeros deserve to be executed.  Mother was right when she said that murdering everyone who was born on he Iron Islands regardless of whether or not they can be civilized would be a horrid crime._

 

_In less than a year, I’ll finally be old enough to become Lord of Winterfell and then everyone in The North will have a little sister watching them so carefully that the rapers, murderers, and thieves will all be dead before they’ve even had a chance to act on their horrid thoughts.  I wish I didn’t have to give up Visenya in order to keep from being sent to The Eyrie, but even the best dog in the world is nothing when weighed against all the lives I’ll save.  My own life doesn’t matter compared to…well…everyone in The North will always need me, but otherwise I’d take my own life if my death would really change things.  I wish it were that easy; at least then I’d be the only person who had to die…and I probably deserve to die anyway after the way I failed mother when Lord Snow attacked her.  I hope that the things I have to do in order to save The North from itself aren’t so horrid that I don’t deserve to live in the world I’ve created._

 

_NO!  What I’m going to have to do to Robar…that isn’t going to make me an evil person.  I would never hurt someone unless there was no other way and…and…and aunt Lyanna even said that the Iron Islanders aren’t really people the way we are besides.  I’m nothing like Lord Bolton or his bastard!  I won’t become a monster just because some of my kin were!_

 

_Mother and aunt Lyanna are the only people who ever believed in me without wanting anything in return; I can’t let them down!  I failed mother the last time I tried to protect her; Lord Snow almost cut off her face with a flaying knife right in front of me because I was too frightened to save her.  And I even put Royce in danger; if father hadn’t believed him then he might’ve taken both of our heads along with mother’s…and it was horrid of me to use my own brother that way besides.  He shouldn’t have…I wouldn’t have had to do it if he’d just done the right thing and helped because he loves me.  I’d have lied for…I would’ve done anything to save Royce if he really needed me!  He wouldn’t have needed to trick me into doing it either.  When you really care about someone, you’re supposed to always be there for them when they need you.  There was blood all over my face and Lord Snow had just tried to…he…he almost…I shouldn’t have had to degrade myself like that to make Royce help me!  If he ever does anything like that to me again; I…I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive him.  I’ll always care for him though and I can still change him besides.  I just have to fix him before he becomes king because if I can’t…if I can’t then there won’t be any place for him in my world.  The North will never be a safe place to live if its king is anything like Royce is right now.  He won’t be 18 for a few more months, so I…I…I still have plenty of time!_

 

_What if when the time comes, Mother doesn’t understand why so many people have to die or tries to stop me from…_   Nymeria frowned.  _I’ll burn Westeros to the ground before I let anything happen to mother.  My subjects can have everything else, but not her!  I won’t lose her!  Never!_   _I…I won’t!  Saving The North isn’t worth losing her…is it?  I wish Ben Bones was here; he’d know what to do…  Why does it have to be me?  Can’t someone else…pull yourself together!  I don’t get to be selfish the way everyone else does, that’s the price of true greatness.  The Old Gods didn’t make me one of the best people ever to set foot on Westeros just so that I could waste my life worrying about what I want; and I’d never betray mother besides.  Please, Old Gods, let her live to see my perfect world.  Mother, she…she deserves it for being the such a good person even after all of the horrid things that she’s survived.  Most people would’ve let it change them, but she never did.  She’s the only completely incorruptible person I’ll ever know, most like._

 

_Robar must be the dumbest turncloak in the history of Planetos.  At first I thought that Royce had turned kinslayer, but I would’ve figured out what really happened on my own.  I wasn’t wrong, I just…took longer than usual to be right.  Father may not have…well…he was still a bad person, but why would Robar try to blame…we have the best mother anyone could possibly want and he betrayed her even after everything she’s done for us.  She even realized that Robar wasn’t smart enough to write any ravens to other lords without first showing a copy of the message to one of his kin in order to make sure he didn’t make a hash of it.  Mayhaps she didn’t need to chide him for forgetting to have someone else look at one of the ravens before he sent it while Lords Manderly, Flint, and Locke were all in the room, but mother was only trying to protect him because she knew he was too stupid to handle the responsibility of communicating to people outside our House unsupervised.  I don’t know why the turncloak always took his messages to Randyll though.  I’d have done a far better job of reviewing his ravens than Randyll and Royce combined, but I suppose true genius is seldom appreciated in its time.  I’m sure the turncloak would’ve chosen me instead of Randyll if he weren’t a half-wit._

 

_No matter how soft in the head he is, Robar’s crimes won’t go unpunished.  I swear it by The Old…wait a minute…it wasn’t even my fault that I had to make Visenya kill Lord Arryn.  If Robar wasn’t a turncloak and Lord Arryn wasn’t such a hateful little shit then none of this would’ve even happened.  Lord Arryn had it coming and he only had himself to blame!  If mother had been there and she’d heard him, I bet she would’ve done the same!_

 

_I didn’t think Robar would kill the pups though and I…I mean…I don’t have anything to feel guilty about; Robar’s the only one who should feel guilty after everything that he’s done.  What kind of monster would betray their House to evil Sothrons, frame the best mother anyone could possibly want for something she had nothing to do with, and murder two innocent bloodhound pups?  Father was one thing, but what did my hounds ever do to him?  I’m going to open that horrid piece of shit’s throat from ear to ear. No, that would be kinslaying.  Well…I can’t be the one to kill Robar, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get someone else to do it for me.  That wouldn’t be kinslaying…not really._

 

_And I didn’t lie about what Lord Snow tried to do either.  Most of what I said was true and I didn’t want to add things, but I needed to be sure it would make Robar wroth enough to send that bastard away before he had a chance to murder mother and me in our cells.  He…he’s gone now though, but Ramsay…he almost…I mean…he can’t hurt me anymore if he’s at The Dreadfort.  Mother, prom…she…she promised not to let him hurt me and…and I…I need to stay calm like aunt Lyanna said; mother needs me.  I…I failed her when Lord Snow attacked her because she tried to save me.  He almost killed her and she wouldn’t have even gotten that scar if I hadn’t been too frightened to do anything at first.  I just stood there like some stupid, craven half-wit while that monster hurt her until I finally came to my senses long enough to stab him.  If mother had gotten there five minutes later or I had taken even a few seconds longer to realize what was happening, he would have…_

 

“OWWW,” yelped Nymeria as the men-at-arms dragged her right over a sharp bone Brandon would oft chew on.  “Fine, I’ll get up.  See?  I’m walking.”  

 

“You’ll speak when spoken to,” grunted Lewton.  

 

“Who said I wanted to speak to either of you?  Did it ever once occur to you that I might have more important things to think about than you?  Probably not.  You don’t get many chances to use your turnip-sized brain, do you?”  

 

“Grunt, if this highborn bitch opens her mouth one more time, shut it for her.”  _I’ll be sure to make time for you when I’m Lord of Winterfell_ …  

 

_At least I’ll be able to make sure mother is alright; she probably blames herself for what Robar did…if she even knows why any of this is happening.  She must be so scared and…no, mother’s not afraid of anything!  She may worry about us sometimes, but that’s just because she’s such a good mother.  Mother’s the bravest person in all of Planteos!  I need to make sure that she understands that this all happened because Lord Snow, Lord Arryn, and Robar are the sort of horrid monsters who deserve to be fed to my dogs.  Mayhaps the turncloak doesn’t know that Ben Bones helped me train some of the bloodhounds in the kennels too…_  

 

_Royce is going to have to figure out how to get mother and me out of here by himself.  He had to have been pretending to be afraid; Royce wouldn’t abandon me like that just because he was scared of Robar.  I wouldn’t abandon him if needed me…_

 

… 

 

“Mother?  Mother, are you alright,” asked Nymeria.  The Queen of The North bit her lip and looked down at the ground, but didn’t make a sound until Grunt and Lewton had locked the youngest Bolton in a cell across from her mother.  After completing their task, the two men-at-arms left Winterfell’s hidden dungeon as quickly as they arrived.  “Are you hurt?  Mother?  I can hear you crying!  None of this is your fault; I…I promise!” 

“I know that it’s not my *sniff* my fault, Nym *sniff* Nymeria.  I’m *sniff* I’m crying because I’m happy,” sighed the Queen of The North.  

 

“What do you mean?”  

 

“One of the men-at-arms who brought you here, Lewton, he broke down the door to my chambers last night and some of the men from Lord Arryn’s household guard helped him lock me in here and –”  

 

“Why would that make you happy?”  

 

“Before Lewton left, he told me that Lord Arryn and *sniff* and the bastard had taken Winterfell with the help of one of my sons and that the rest…the rest of my children were dead.  I wanted to die, but I knew he was lying because none of my children would ever turn kinslayer.  I assumed that he just *sniff* didn’t want me to know that Randyll had escaped.  Royce would’ve been to frightened to react in time and Robar wouldn’t last a day on his own.  I was worried you’d gotten yourself killed trying to fight.  Lord Arryn murdered Domeric so that he could kill the four of you and rule The North through the bastard after legitimizing him, most like.  I didn’t say anything when Lewton and Grunt brought you here because I knew they’d lock you up somewhere else where I couldn’t see or speak to you.  You’re alive…the best *sniff* the best thing I’ve made.  I thought I’d…I thought I’d lost forever, but you’re right here and…and you’re still alive.  I couldn’t…I couldn’t save Robar or Royce, but I promise that I’ll protect you…somehow.  I won’t fail you and Randyll ever again and –”  _She doesn’t know about Robar; I have to be careful how I tell her what he’s done.  Mother doesn’t need to hear about what I did to Lord Arryn…not right now, at least.  There was nothing wrong with it though, I just…umm…it can be a surprise for some other time or…well…I’ll worry about that whenever someone else tells her about it._

 

“You couldn’t fail us if you tried, mother.  And Robar and Royce aren’t dead besides.  They’re both at Winterfell, but –”

 

“Did Lyanna escape too?  If Randyll and her both got away then they’ll come back for us with an army and –”  

  
“Lewton wasn’t lying about one of my brothers being a turncloak.”  

 

“I…I always knew Royce was…different from the rest of you,” sighed the Queen of The North in a tone that suggested that such a betrayal would have come as no surprise to her.  “No matter how badly I wanted to pretend, I always knew what he really –”  

 

“What?  No, Royce would never betray me…betray us like that.  He’s one of the best people either of us will ever know, most like.  Royce saved me from uncle Rickon by pushing me out of my chair when your brother attacked me and he’d do anything for…how could you even think something so horrid of him?  I know that he hurt a cat at Barrowtown when he was little, but people change.”  

 

“Nym, that wasn’t why he had to leave Barrowtown early; Royce –”  

 

“I’m sorry, mother.  I…I didn’t mean to snap at you like that; I just…I wasn’t myself, but I…can we please talk about whatever happened at Barrowtown another time?  All I meant was that Royce wasn’t the turncloak.”  

 

“Randyll,” whimpered Arya, her voice cracking with grief.  In truth, the Queen of The North sounded as though her sorrow were so great that she was about to drop dead right where she stood.  _You’d really rather it be Royce than Randyll, wouldn’t you?  But…but I thought you hated Randyll.  If mother feels this way about Royce then mayhaps he really is a bad person after all.  How could I be so wrong about him?  Mother’s the best person in Westeros and she always will be, so mayhaps my emotions kept me from seeing what Royce really is and…NO!  That’s ridiculous!  I’m just not thinking clearly right now, most like.  Mother loves all of us equally and she…she didn’t really think Royce betrayed us, most like.  I bet that was just the stress talking.  And I would never let emotions cloud my judgement besides.  I probably just misunderstood mother or…or I…I mean…pull yourself together!  Mother needs me right now!  I have to be strong for her just like she’s always been strong for me and that means that I need to focus on the matter at hand._

 

“No, it was Robar.  Randyll and Lyanna are both alive; they were the only ones who risked their lives to try to protect me when Robar wanted to force me to wed Lord Arryn’s son in The Eyrie.”  

 

“HE WHAT?  Wait…but…but that doesn’t make any…why would Robar –”  

 

 

“The turncloak said that he murdered father and framed you for it because Lord Arryn and the bast…and the…and Lord Snow promised to help him rule The North.  Please, mother, it wasn’t your fault!  Don’t start crying again; I…I need you right now.”  Fortunately, the youngest Bolton’s words seemed to have nipped the Queen of The North’s budding feelings of self-loathing in the bud.  However, Arya’s face also made all too plain the pain she was suffering as she grew ever more resigned to the reality of her eldest son’s betrayal.  “I thought they were going to send me away and I’d never see you again.  The turncloak wasn’t even going to let me say goodbye,” mumbled the youngest Bolton.  

  
“Don’t worry, Nym; I’m still here.  I…I’ll always be with you, even when I’m dead and buried.  You already have the best part of me and it will stay inside of you until *sniff* until the day you die.  As long as you remember *sniff* remember that, you’ll never have to worry about losing me the way *sniff* the way that Lord Bolton caused me to lose my mother.  I’ll always be here for you and your brothers…even Robar.”  

 

“Robar isn’t part of our family anymore.”  

 

“Nymeria, I want you to listen to me very carefully.”  

 

“I always do!”  

  
“If that were true, then you’d know better than to say such a horrid thing.”  _What?_  

 

“But I –”  

 

“Can you be listening if you’re talking over me?”  

 

“No,” sighed the youngest Bolton.  _This is really a good thing; I’m helping distract mother from all of the horrid things that have happened today.  And I already knew I was going have to eventually make sure that she doesn’t think any of her children are responsible for the turncloak’s death besides.  I hope she’s not wroth with me for killing Lord Arryn.  Mother will understand, but I hope she’s not disappointed in me.  She’s always said that I could never fail her and I know how proud she is of me, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t disappointed by some of the things I’ve done; it just means that the good things far outweigh the bad ones._

 

“No matter what Robar has done, he’s still your brother and nothing can ever change that.  I hope he’s sent to The Wall, but I’d rather see him rule The North for the rest of his days than see his head on a spike.  Do you understand?”  

 

“Yes, mother; I…I understand,” Nymeria lied.  _This is why I’m the only one who can save The North.  You’re the best person who has ever and will ever set foot on Planetos, but you’re not quite strong enough to do whatever needs to be done.  It’s not your fault; it’s something to be proud of, most like.  I wish I could be more like you…more like who I want to be, but mercy is a luxury that I cannot afford when I am fighting monsters like Lord Snow.  And mother and I don’t even disagree about the turncloak besides.  I just think the end of his days should come sooner than she does, but Royce always said that what mother doesn’t know can’t hurt her._  

 

“What about Sansa?”  

 

“What about her?”  

 

“She…she didn’t know about any of this.  I know she didn’t, but Robar didn’t hurt her…did he?”  

  
“No,” grunted Nymeria.  “Whatever else Lady Arryn and that twisted demon monkey she served –

“My sister has a name, Nym.  Sansa’s not the enemy; she hated Lord Arryn even more than either of us, most like.  And she saved my life besides.”  _NO!  NO!  NO!  NO!  I’m sorry, mother, but you’re wrong about her.  Your sister has to go and that’s final!  The best that I can do for Lady Arryn is to give her one chance to leave The North and never return.  That evil, red-haired witch doesn’t deserve to be addressed as though she were a member of our family.   I hate her!  She’s near as bad as Robar!  If I catch her so much as looking at Royce ever again…  If she really hated Lord Arryn, then she’d have done something about him like I did, but she didn’t because she’s nothing but a hateful Sothron turncloak who deserves to burn in the Seven Hells forever!_

 

“Fine.  Whatever else your ‘sister’ did or didn’t do, I don’t think she liked what Robar was doing.  Royce and her were too craven to do anything about it.”  

 

“I WAS NOT,” shouted a voice from beneath youngest Bolton’s cell.  

 

“Royce,” the youngest Bolton and her mother blurted in unison.  

 

“I would never abandon you like that!  I didn’t say anything because if I did, then I wouldn’t be able to help you right now.  Robar has to think I’m too craven to do anything, else he’ll let Skinner kill me.  He already lets Skinner throw food at me whenever he gets bored; I have to be Robar’s bloody court fool.”  _I knew I could fix him!  Royce didn’t abandon us because he’s becoming a good person; he’s changing for me and…wait a minute…how long has Royce been there?  Was he spying on us?_

 

_Time enough for that later, right now I need to convince Royce to kill our miserable, half-witted shit of an older brother so that Randyll can release mother and me from our cells when he becomes king.  Randyll will help us; we’re friends now and he even said that he wasn’t wroth with me anymore for thinking that he had tried to have me killed.  Royce will be a kinslayer, but he’s already accursed for what he did to our uncles and if one of us had to be accursed then Royce would probably rather it be him besides.  I can’t tell him to kill Robar right now though.  Mother’s here and she wouldn’t understand, most like._

 

“Royce?  Where are you,” the Queen of The North asked wearily.  _Why isn’t mother happy that Royce came to visit us?  Doesn’t she know that he’s just trying to help and…wait a minute…he’s going to have to help us without my supervision._   _Please, Old Gods, let Royce think before he does anything just this once.  You don’t need to worry about me; do it for mother.  She needs…no, she deserves your help more than anyone else in Westeros._

“There are a bunch of tunnels that I found a long time ago when I was playing in the crypt and one of them goes right beneath Nym’s cell.  One of the stones in the floor slides out without making a sound.  It’s easy to put it back whenever you’re done talking to whoever is in here the cells too.  You don’t even have to talk very loudly for everyone to be able to hear you; it’s at the perfect spot in the floor,” youngest son of Arya and Domeric Bolton cheerfully replied.  

 

_Is she…mother’s afraid of him,_ Nymeria realized, frowning at the sight of her mother’s weary eyes anxiously sweeping the floor of the youngest Bolton’s cell in a futile effort to find the missing stone.  _That doesn’t make any sense; Royce might be a little rough around the edges, but he’d never do anything to hurt her.  Arya’s our mother and she…unless…what did she mean when she said he got sent back from Barrowtown early?  Mother always said that he was only supposed to be fostered there for the first six years of his life.  Even if father changed his mind about how long it was going to be, why would mother lie to me about that?  She must’ve been trying to protect me from something, but Royce would never hurt me.  And if he wasn’t sent back for accidentally killing that cat then what could he have even done wrong while he was there?  It must have been something absolutely horrid since no one ever said anything about it at Winterfell and Royce never told me about it._

 

_Well, whatever he did at Barrowtown, Royce isn’t like that anymore!  He’s not some evil little shit like that half-witted, kinslaying turncloak puppy-murderer who has the nerve to call himself our brother after what he did to mother.  Father was one thing; he was a horrid person and Domeric never said he was proud of me besides…not even once.  No matter how hard I tried or what I did, he always said that he wished I’d never been born.  Father didn’t need to say it all the time like mother does or even as oft as aunt Lyanna either.  I’d have settled for hearing it once or twice, but he hated me too much to say it even as a jape.  He wouldn’t even let me pretend it was true…_ The youngest Bolton let out a quiet sigh as she finally found the small stone that was missing from the floor of her cell.

 

_That’s why The Old Gods made Lord Arryn, the turncloak, and the bast…Lord Snow’s plan work: to punish father for treating the future savior of Westeros so cruelly.  Father got exactly what he deserved, but mother never did anything except love and protect us.  How could Robar do something so horrid to her?  There won’t be any place for him in the world I’m going to create._

 

“How old were you when you found…I mean…nevermind.”  

 

“Mother, are you alright?”  

 

“I just…it’s nothing.  I’m fine, Royce,” replied the Queen of The North, biting her lip.  

 

“You don’t sound like it was nothing,” replied Royce in a dangerously calm tone that the youngest Bolton liked not at all.  “You sound even more upset than you did before I said anything.”  _You were spying on us!  If I weren’t locked in this cell right now, I swear by The Old Gods I’d…no, I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.  Royce was just…Seven Hells, why bother pretending?  Of course, he was spying on us.  Aunt Lyanna always said that only fools lie to themselves and I’m the smartest person who has ever lived, so I can’t lie to myself about anything…not even about Royce.  I hope he doesn’t try to do something stupid because of whatever mother was going to say about him…_

 

“It’s fine, Royce.  I had a horrid thought for a moment, but I…I’m fine now.  I just…remembered something Rickon once said to me is all.”  

 

“Are you sure about that, moth–”  

 

“ROYCE; she already answered your question!  Hasn’t our mother suffered enough today without your help?”  

 

“Fine,” muttered the second youngest Bolton, speaking just loudly enough for his sister to hear him.  “I’m sorry, mother, I was just *sniff* things have been horrid ever since father died.  I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”  _Seven Hells, if you’re going to fake cry then at least put some effort into it.  I didn’t know you were one of those “oh woe is me, look at my single tear and feel sorry for me people;” I thought I taught you better than that.  At least mother would never fall for such incompetent fake crying!_  

 

“I know, Royce.  I…I’m sorry for…everything that happened today.  Mayhaps if I’d been a better mother to Robar, none this would have –”  _Seven Hells!_

 

“There’s nothing to forgive; right, Nym?”  _How dare you make me your accomplice in tricking mother like…no…must…stay calm._   _Mother needs to hear that it isn’t her fault, Nymeria reminded herself_ , quietly grinding her teeth.

 

“Right.  None of this is your fault, mother.  I swear it by The Old Gods and even the made-up new ones.  You’ve been the best mother anyone could possibly want and none of this happened because of anything you did.  You’ve spent every single hour since Robar was born fighting for him…for all of us.  No one could be a better mother than you’ve been and if that evil turncloak –”  

 

“He’s still your brother, Nymeria.”  

 

“Well, whatever you want me to call him, he –”  

 

“I want you to call him ‘Robar.’  Your brother has done horrid things to our House and he’ll answer to The Old Gods for them…but he’ll always be a Bolton of Winterfell.”  

 

“Whaaaatevvvveeeer,” groaned Royce through the floor.  _What part of respecting people’s privacy don’t you understand?_   “Anyway, I have to go before Skinner notices I’m missing; he’s been watching me like a bloody hawk for some reason.  Before I go, I wanted to tell you both something really important.  Lyanna convinced Robar to not to let anyone hurt either of you and even got him to swear not to send Nym to The Eyrie, but…”  

 

“But what,” asked The Queen of The North, biting her lip.  

 

“The two of you are going to be exiled to Bear Island once Nymeria’s trial is over and mother has –”  _Once we get to Bear Island, mother can safely lead a rebellion against Robar or if she doesn’t want to kill that half-witted turncloak who saw fit to sit on my throne, I’m sure aunt Lyanna would be willing to do it.  Of course, she’ll need my help, most like._

  
“See, mother, everything’s going to be alright!  Our House has real friends who would never abandon us in our time of need because everyone in The North knows how good a person you are; we’re going to be okay because of you.  You’ve already saved me without even having to lift a finger.”  It was a half-truth at best, but even a blind man could see that it was what the Queen of The North needed to hear.  Although it hardly lasted two seconds, the small smile that briefly appeared upon the poor woman’s face was all Nymeria needed in order to know that her words had helped her mother in some small way.  

 

“Thank you, Nymeria.”  

 

“You’re welcome, mother!  This is better news than any of us could’ve possibly hoped for,” exclaimed the youngest Bolton.  _I know that Royce doesn’t like that I’m such good friends with Benjen Mormont and…well…he gets upset whenever I become good friends with a male member of another House who is younger than 30, but I’m really proud of him for not letting his emotions cause him to make an arse of himself over this.  Mayhaps Royce has finally learned to trust and respect me enough not to insult me by acting like I’d bed any man within ten years of our age whom I happened to be friends with; I’m glad he’s finally showing some maturity for a change._

  
“It is,” blurted Royce, sounding near as horrified as he did surprised.  “Wait…you want to go to Bear Island, Nym?  Are you sure?  Obviously, I…I don’t mind if you want to go with mother to some distant island under the protection someone who has always been trusted by the Northern Houses that hate us most and stay there for the rest of your life.  If mother wants to risk –”  _Or not…_

 

“Yes.  I’m sure,” the youngest Bolton growled through tightly clenched teeth.  Nymeria glanced at her mother and frowned at the puzzled expression on the Queen of The North’s face.  _Seven Hells!  Look what you did now, Royce; you’re confusing our mother.  She has enough to worry about without trying to understand why one of her children is babbling like a bloody idiot._

 

“But…but there must always be a Bolton at Winterfell; you always told us that, mother!  That means Nymeria shouldn’t go with you to Bear Island, right,” Royce asked in a frantic, pleading tone that would have offended the youngest Bolton were it not so pathetic.  

 

“You were starting to say that Robar wanted me to do something before anyone went to Bear Island,” replied the Queen of The North, plainly having decided to ignore her youngest son’s question.  “What did you mean?”  

 

“Oh right, part of the deal Robar and Lyanna made is that neither of you can go to Bear Island until you sign a written confession stating that you murdered father.”  _LIAR!  Aunt Lyanna wouldn’t do that!_   “I have to go now before someone Skinner notices that I’m gone.  I…I don’t feel very well right now.”  _I hope you throw up all over yourself in front of every…actually, I hope you throw up all other the turncloak.  That way our so-called king will smell like the piece of shit he is!  Wait a minute…that’s it!  I know Royce, he’ll be back tonight when mother’s asleep.  We just have to help remind the turncloak what a horrid shit he is; Robar still thinks ghosts our real, so if Royce can do father’s voice…I suppose a castle as old as Winterfell is due for a haunting._

 

“I need to talk to Lyanna.  No one is going to Bear Island if it means I’d have to sign a false confession saying that I’m a kinslayer.  Royce just made a mistake, most like.”  _That was no mistake; he just doesn’t want me to go to Bear Island!_   “I don’t understand why Lyanna would want me to –”  

 

“Why I would want you to do what,” asked the Lady of Bear Island as the door to Winterfell’s hidden dungeon swung open and Lyanna Mormont entered the hallway, Randyll following closely behind her.  “Whatever it is, I hope it can wait.  I wish I were only coming here with good news, but I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that your daughter hasn’t told you why she is sitting in a cell right across from you.”  

 

“That’s because she wouldn’t –”  

  
“That would be a ‘no,’” grunted Randyll.  

 

“Was anyone talking to you,” growled Nymeria.  The Lady of Bear Island gave the youngest Bolton such a fearsome death glare that Nymeria almost apologized for being rude to her brother on the spot.  _What could I have possibly done to make aunt Lyanna so wroth with me?  Whatever it is, I’m really sorry!  Please don’t let her hate me, Old Gods!  Don’t worry, aunt Lyanna, whatever I did, I’ll make it up to you!  I promise!  Just give me one more chance…please._

 

“Whatever Nymeria did, I’m sure she had a good reason.”  

 

“You’ve got me there,” sighed Lyanna.  “Part of being a friend is telling hard truths and the things I’m about to say…they’re the kinds of truths no parent wants to hear.  Do you under–”  

 

“Unless they’re about me,” muttered Randyll.  

 

“Was that really necessary,” snapped the Lady of Bear Island.  The second eldest son of Arya and Domeric Bolton shrugged his shoulders, plainly unimpressed.  

 

“The most important thing is that it looks like you and Nymeria are alright.  I was worried the Bastard of Bolton might’ve ordered his men to hurt one of you.  Before say anything else, you know how highly I think of your of daught–”  

 

“I’m fine, Lyanna.  I appreciate that you came to visit us and I know Nymeria does too, but if what you have to say about Nym is as important as you’d made it sound, then we can exchange pleasantries afterward,” the Queen of The North replied in a harsh tone that Nymeria had only heard her mother use towards the Lady of Bear Island during their argument about whether it would be wrong to kill every single person born on the Iron Islands.  

 

“Arya, I only meant…I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to draw things out; I’m glad you understand the seriousness of the situation.  I was worried I’d have to intervene to keep you from blaming Randyll for –”  _Why is mother treating aunt Lyanna this way?  Doesn’t she know Royce was lying?_

 

“I’m glad you approve of how I treat my son.”  

 

“I never said that.”  

 

“Either way, I would never be wroth with you for telling me hard truths…even if they were about Nymeria.  Part of why we became such close friends is because you’re the one person who I know will always tell me the truth without worrying about how I’ll react or whether I want to hear it.”  _What about me?_   “That’s why I’m so disappointed in you for stalling like this instead of just telling me whatever it is that you plainly think Nymeria did wrong.  I never thought I’d see the day when you stalled like a craven instead of saying whatever horrid thing you were thinking about my daughter.  I thought you were better than that…and I know Nymeria thought the world of you.  I can’t imagine what she must think now…”  Lyanna frowned, plainly wounded by her friend’s words in much the same way a little girl might be wounded by the stinging disapproval of an older sister whom she had always looked up to.  _I don’t want mother to hurt aunt Lyanna like this, especially if it’s just to defend me.  Aunt Lyanna doesn’t deserve to be treated this way after everything she’s done for us!_   She’s been more of a parent to me than father ever was and she…she doesn’t deserve this!

“Mother, Lyanna’s right;  I…I did something horrid and I was afraid to tell you about it,” Nymeria lied.  “Please, she didn’t do anything wrong; she’s just trying to help!  Whoever said she made a deal with Robar to let you live on Bear Island if you signed a false confession about father’s murder was lying!  She’s just being a good friend by telling you the truth.  Please, stop talking to her like that!”

 

“Wait a minute…you thought I’d help force you to sign a false confession naming you a kinslayer?  We’ve known each other since…since…how could you even think I’d ever do something like that to you?”  

 

“You didn’t?  But I thought…I mean…I just…I’m sorry, Lyanna.  This has been one of the most horrid days of my life; I thought all of my children except Randyll were dead until Nym was brought here.  I wasn’t myself just now; you’re like a sister to me, Lyanna.  Of course, I know you’d never betray me like that!  And I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I didn’t mean any of it…not really.  Do you accept my apology?”  

 

“Of course, I do.  You gave me a safe…well…a place to live and practically raised me like I was your fifth child after I lost my fam…Randyll Bolton, if I have to tell you again not to roll your eyes at –”  

 

“Mother has a twin?  Just what I’ve always wanted,” grumbled Randyll.  

 

“Just ignore him,” replied the Queen of The North.  

 

“You’ve always been good at that, haven’t you?”  

 

“Mother does not ignore us,” snapped Nymeria.  

 

“We don’t have time for this,” shouted the Lady of Bear Island.  “I need to talk to you about Nym.  She is in her cell because she has blood on her hands…highborn blood.”


	22. Arya

“What do you mean?  Lyanna, that wasn’t funny this is…this…this is no time for jokes and that…that can’t be right besides.  Nymeria, she…she wouldn’t do that!  I don’t know what you heard, but –”  _She promised…_  

 

 

“She set one of the bloodhounds you gave her upon Lord Arryn.  It tore off his manhood and he bled to death right in front of me,” the Lady of Bear Island calmly replied.  _That can’t be true because if it is then I…I…I’ve failed her too and ruined the best thing I ever could have made.  Please, Old Gods, I…I don’t care what Nymeria did or didn’t do as long as she won’t be accursed like me.  That must be why I’m broken…why everyone I care about – Lyanna, my children, Sansa, Jon, Bran, Rickon…everyone – is destined to die before I do.  They’ll all keep dying one by one and it will be my fault…it always is; no matter how hard I try to protect them, I always make a hash of things in the worst possible way.  I can’t protect my children from the world because it’s my fault mother and Robb died at the Red Wedding.  It doesn’t matter that I never wanted to hurt anyone; The Old Gods have still condemned me for being a kinslayer and I…I don’t care what I did or didn’t do.  The Old Gods can have everything else, but they can’t have my children or…they can’t have Nym._

 

_Bringing Nymeria into the world and raising her to become the type of person I could’ve…should’ve grown up to be is the only good legacy I can ever leave behind after everything that has happened.  The Old Gods can’t have her!  No matter what I’ve done, they don’t get to make her accursed like me!  Nymeria promised she’d never…and…and the blood was everywhere…and then…it’s not true!  I won’t let it be!  It wasn’t like that!  She’s good!  Nymeria won’t spend her life broken like me and there’s nothing any God or man can do to change that!  She’s going to have a good life and do great things someday.  She’ll be the woman I would have been in a better world…_

 

“I *sniff* I don’t care what you think happened.  You’re *sniff* a *sniff* just a cruel and *sniff* ungrateful traitor and I…I…I don’t want to hear any more of your *sniff* lies,” whimpered the Queen of The North as the room grew watery and Arya became dimly aware of someone speaking to her.  The Queen of The North tried to look at her daughter, but she couldn’t…in truth, she was afraid of what she might see staring back at her.  

 

“I never said Nym murdered Lord Arryn; I said she had his blood on her hands.  There’s a difference.  Arya?  Arya?  Hello?  Anyone there?  ARYA!  Arya, stay with me!  Randyll, tell your mother…wait…no, you probably shouldn’t say anything.  You’ll just agitate her even more, most like.  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that how it sounded,” sighed Lyanna.   

“Don’t worry, I’m used to it by now.  Sorry, I didn’t mean that how it sounded.  Wait a minute…Lyanna, I think something might actually be wrong with mother.  I haven’t seen her this upset since –”   

 

“So mayhaps instead of making childish japes, we act our age try to help mother calm down.  Do you think you can handle that, Randyll?”    

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  

 

“Well…mother obviously isn’t wroth with me and aunt Lyanna would never hurt her like this, so it must be your fault that she’s so upset,” Nymeria matter-of-factly replied as Lyanna rolled her eyes.  

 

“My fault,” blurted Randyll.  

 

“Don’t worry, I know you’d never hurt our mother like this on purpose; you just can’t help it.  Mother, it’s okay.  You can stop crying now.  Whatever Randyll did, I’m sure he’s really sorry.”  

 

“Why would you just assume our mother is upset because of something I…okay, that part makes sense.  Even so, did you listen to a word Lyanna said?  You’re the one who killed the King of the bloody Vale.”  

 

“This isn’t the time for japes, Randyll.”  

 

“You thought that was a jape?”  

 

“What else would it be?  Lord Arryn’s death can’t very well be the reason aunt Lyanna was wroth with me since I didn’t do anything wrong.”  Arya bit her lip.  “Mother?  What’s wrong?  What did I say?”  _She…she’s just afraid to admit that what she did was…no, that can’t be it.  She didn’t have any choice!  And Lord Arryn deserved to die besides.  This is my fault, not hers; I…I was supposed to protect all of my children from people like Lord Arryn and the Bastard.  Nymeria, Royce, Randyll…even Robar, I tried to hide them from the monsters.  I thought that maybe after Lord Bolton died I could…_

 

“My daughter is not a murderer,” Arya glumly mumbled as her face sank like a stone in the ocean.  _She’s not…she’s nothing like Royce.  He killed a cat and there was the other time…but even then, he was only a little boy.  How could he have possibly known what he was doing?  Lady Dustin was lying!  It…it had to be an accident.  It was an accident.  And I only have Lady Dustin’s word that Royce even…that he even did it besides.  How could a six year old drown a two year-old anyway?  And because of a fight over who got to play with a toy soldier?  Children that age…they just don’t do things like that.  And even if Royce did kill that child on purpose – which he didn’t – Nymeria would never do something like that besides.  She’d never hurt anyone unless it was in self-defense or it was the only way to protect her family, but that’s different…. She’s not a monster.  She didn’t get her own mother killed the way I did at The Twins…  When Lord Snow attacked me, she…I wouldn’t be alive if Nymeria had been like me.  What happened at The Twins wasn’t all my fault, but the Red Wedding never would’ve happened if mother and Robb hadn’t found me, most like.  Nymeria’s good; Lord Arryn had to have left her with no choice except to kill him, else she never would’ve done it._

 

“Your daughter killed Lord Arryn.  She has highborn blood on her hands and there is nothing you, me, or anyone else can ever do to change that, but you’re right.  She didn’t murder him, even if killing him was one of the most foolish, short-sighted blunders I’ve ever had the misfortune of witnessing.  She didn’t violate the guest right either which means she’s not accursed.  Robar all but admitted to Royce, Randyll, and me that he’d plotted with Lord Bastard and that evil dwarf to murder Domeric.  And Lord Arryn threatened to grab the poor girl and milk her like a cow besides.  He violated the guest right before she did, but that was all luck.  Nymeria still killed someone…and not entirely out of fear either; it was partly out of anger.  She didn’t murder him, but Nym knew exactly what she was doing and plainly doesn’t see anything wrong with what she did.”  

 

“I never thought you’d abandon –”  

 

“I’m not abandoning anyone and you bloody well know it, Your Grace.”  _Stop calling me “Your Grace;” you’re my closest friend, not some random subject._   “I would never turn you, Randyll, Royce, or Nymeria away after everything you’ve done for me.  You took me in, cared for me as though I were one of your own children, and did everything in your power to give me some semblance of a family after the Water Wildlings kidnapped every other member of my House.  I don’t know how you managed to convince Lord Bolton and Domeric to let me live at Winterfell for as long as I needed to, even after the war had ended.”  _Domeric didn’t need to be convinced.  He always hated you, but he still felt near as badly for you as I did when he learned that the Iron Born had kidnapped your mother.  He always said that no child deserves to lose its mother.  Maybe he thought it was a way to atone for sending Royce to Barrowtown.  Domeric never apologized for sending him away, but that was the only time he ever admitted that he’d been a horrid father to one of our children.  Of course, he then accused me of “making him” do it by “failing to bring the child’s cacophony of incomprehensible screams to a swift conclusion.”_

 

_I didn’t need to convince Lord Bolton either, but he never felt badly for you…or anyone else.  He didn’t even bother pretending; he told me that you could stay at Winterfell as long as you wanted so long since it could make you feel indebted to House Bolton for the rest of your life.  That wasn’t why I took you in, I…I know what it’s like to be alone in the world…to be a child who has lost their whole family one way or another.  I couldn’t save anyone from House Stark – not even the Starkling I was before I became a Bolton – but I knew I could save Lyanna from ending up broken and accursed like me…and I did._

 

“I’m sorry, Lyanna.  I know you’d never turn your back on us.  I didn’t mean –”  

 

“I know you didn’t mean it, but it hurt all the same.  You need to be careful about that, else you’re going to eventually say something you can’t take back…probably to Randyll.  I only meant that what Nym did made it harder for me to help the two of you.  If it were anyone else’s daughter, I wouldn’t be able to let them live on Bear Island.  She killed someone out of both fear and anger.  What if Nymeria became wroth with someone in House Mormont someday?  Would I –”  

 

“I’d never hurt you or your –”  

 

“Nymeria Bolton, whatever you’re about to say, I don’t want to hear it right now!  Don’t worry, I’ll get to you soon enough…”  

 

“I don’t want you talking to my daughter that way,” muttered the Queen of The North, finally managing to wipe away the tears which had been slowly dribbling down both of her cheeks.  _You’re like a sister to me, but you are not Nymeria’s mother.  You don’t get to talk to her like that!_

 

“Arya, what she did was…I mean…listen, I understand why Nymeria killed Lord Arryn and I wish I could’ve done the same to him, but it was a reckless, foolish, and dangerous thing for her to do.  Nothing like that can ever happen again…for her sake as much as anything.  If Robar had reacted even a little bit differently or if I hadn’t been there, she could’ve easily gotten both of you killed on the spot.”  

 

“I didn’t mean –”  

 

“What did I just say, Nymeria?”  _Stop talking to her that way!  You’re like family, but that’s not the same as being family._

 

“Not to interrupt you,” mumbled the youngest Bolton, looking down at the ground as she spoke. 

“Good.  Now since you’re so eager to join the conversation, mayhaps you’d like to tell us why you thought you’d be better able to help your mother by getting yourself locked in a dungeon cell than if you were free.  I could’ve still convinced Robar not to send you to The Eyrie, most like, but –”  

 

“Or you could be wrong and then I’d never see my daughter again because of your failure.  And you’re not her bloody mother besides,” growled the Queen of The North.  “You’re like family to me, but you’re not a Bolton.  Remember that, Lyanna.”  

 

“After all, what little girl doesn’t grow up dreaming of the day when she’ll belong to a House best known for flaying its enemies and hanging their skins in Winterfell,” snickered the Lady of Bear Island.  

 

“Flaying people is no different than putting their head on a spike.  And Domeric and I never let Lord Bolton hang anyone’s skin in Winterfell besides.  Even the Umber savages would have to admit that we’re far more peaceful than the Iron Islanders, most like.”  

 

“A high bar if there ever was one.”  

  
“Shut up.”  

 

“Listen, Arya, I know that you think you’re protecting Nym, but you’re actually hurting her when you –”  

 

“Do I tell you how to raise your son?”  

 

“No, Your Grace,” the Lady of Bear Island curtly replied.  

 

“How oft do I remind you of all the horrid things you’ve said about innocent children ever since I took you in?  Why don’t you tell my children what you once told me you would do if you ever came across a newborn babe and learned that it had been born in Pyke.  Go on, Lyanna.  I’m sure Nymeria and Randyll would love to hear your thoughts on what should be done with newborn children from the Iron Islands.  After all, you know sooooooooo much about how to handle children.”  

 

Lyanna ground her teeth and clenched her jaw, plainly struggling to contain her hatred for the monsters who had stolen so much from her for more than a few seconds…but in the end, the Lady of Bear Island’s hatred clouded her judgement.  It always did.  The moment the words came out of her mouth, Arya desperately wanted to apologize to her closest friend for cruelly using the poor woman’s pain to bring out the worst in her, but the words stuck in her throat.  In the end, all the Queen of The North could do was watch as a lifetime of hatred, pain, and grief came pouring out of the most loyal friend she could have ever wanted.  _No matter how wroth she was, Lyanna would never do something like this to me…_

 

“If a newly born Water Wildling were in front of me right now, I would open its throat and I wouldn’t give it any more thought than I would stepping on an ant.  All it would mean is that there would be one less of those vermin in Westeros.  You’ve never understood the Iron Islanders, Arya.  They may look innocent as children and I’m sure if we lived in Pyke long enough, I’m sure each Northman would know their own ‘decent Iron Islander,’ but I know what those monsters really are, Arya.  I’ve seen it with my own eyes.  The only good Iron Islander is a dead one!”  Arya bit her lip.  While Randyll was rightly horrified by his surrogate aunt’s vitriolic hatred, Nymeria was plainly soaking up every word that came out of Lyanna’s mouth like a sponge.

 

“Lyanna, they can’t all be –”    

 

“I know it seems cruel, but I would never forgive myself if you, Randyl, Nymeria or even Royce ever had to suffer the way I have…especially after everyone you’ve already lost.  I wouldn’t have even wished that on Domeric or…Lord Bolton was a monster, but he…he understood the Iron Born.”

 

“You don’t understand, Arya; the children are dangerous too.  They may look innocent enough right now, but the boys will grow up to be men and the girls will grow up to be mothers who will have sons of their own.  Those…things are all the same.  They’re murderers, kidnappers, and rapers who butcher families because…because…because that’s what those people do!  They *sniff* they wouldn’t have been able to hurt my family if I’d been older.  I would have *sniff* I *sniff* I could *sniff* I would have rid the world of those animals before *sniff* before they had a chance to hurt *sniff* to hurt any of my kin.  They’re all *sniff* they’re *sniff* I mean *sniff* I didn’t *sniff* I shouldn’t have said…that wasn’t me; I just…sorry,” mumbled the Lady of Bear Island, looking down at the ground in shame.  _I did this to her.  Lyanna has been like family to me for as long as I’ve known her and this is how I repaid her loyalty…I used what happened to her family to make her humiliate herself.  I don’t deserve to have Lyanna as a friend…_  

 

“Listen, we’re getting off track,” sighed Lyanna, drying her eyes.  “Can…can we at least agree that it was a bad thing that Nymeria personally killed Lord Arryn?  I’m not saying she’s a bad person or that he didn’t deserve to die; he broke the guest right first.  I was there and –”  

 

“I suppose, but Randyll and her are still good people.”  _Royce is…_   

 

“I’m sorry, mother, could you say that again?  Mayhaps a little louder?”  

 

“Don’t push your luck,” muttered Arya, glaring at her second eldest son albeit without half the harshness she’d so oft shown him in years past.  For her part, Nymeria almost seemed more relieved to hear her mother refer to her brother as a “good person” than she did when the same was said about her.  

 

“Good.  I’m glad we can agree that killing Lord Arryn was a foolish thing to do.  We’re making progress and –”  

 

“That doesn’t mean my daughter is a monster.  She’s the best –“  

 

“Okaaay, let’s try something else,” sighed Lyanna plainly hoping to keep her friend from finishing her sentence in front of Randyll and Nymeria more than anything else.  “Do you think everyone who makes a dangerous, foolish, impulsive, and selfish mistake is an evil person?”  Lyanna frowned upon noticing the tears welling up in the youngest Bolton’s pale, blue eyes.  “Nymeria, that came out harsher than I intended; I didn’t mean –”    

 

“Yes, you did.  I *sniff* I…I didn’t mean *sniff* I never meant to make you hate me, aunt *sniff* aunt Lyanna.  I only *sniff* I…I just *sniff* I didn’t mean it,” whimpered the youngest Bolton.  _You have five minutes to fix this, Lyanna.  The next time you’re wroth with me, you’d better leave my daughter out of it!_

 

“Oh wow, those are real tears aren’t they, Nym?  I want you to remember how you feel right now for the rest of your life.  Hold onto it.  That feeling you have right now is called being the disappointment.  Every day of my life, I’ve –”  

 

“Never been more of a disappointment than you are right now.  You really are your father’s son, aren’t you,” seethed the Queen of The North.  

 

“Randyll’s right, mother.  Aunt *sniff* aunt Lyanna is too, most like.  Mother, I just…I just made a mistake.  Lord Arryn, he *sniff* deserved to die, but I…I shouldn’t have done that and Randyll, he was the only one who was brave enough to *sniff* to try and…and *sniff* and protect me from Lord Snow.”  _She really thinks Randyll tried to save her.  If…if Nymeria can forgive him for what he did to her and Randyll really tried to protect her from Robin Arryn and Lord Snow, then mayhaps…mayhaps I can try…_

 

“You’re right, Nymeria.  I’m glad you are able to admit when you’ve made a mistake.  I’m very proud of you.”  

  
“Thank you, mother!”

  
“Seven Hells,” groaned Randyll.  _I suppose I should probably say something nice to you too…_

 

“Randyll, I…I’m sorry for calling you a ‘disappointment;’ I didn’t mean it,” Arya lied.  Even if the words weren’t true, they were the ones her second eldest son needed to hear, most like.  “You’re nothing like your fath–”  

 

“Yes, you did.  We both know that you meant every word of –”  

 

 

“No, I didn’t, but I do mean this: I…I’m glad that you’re my son.  I’ve always tried to love you as best I can, but that wasn’t always enough.  I’m sorry that I wasn’t always able to be the kind of mother you deserved.  I never loved you any less than your siblings though.  I’m proud of you for defending your family today…and for not losing your temper and doing something foolish.  Self-control is an art you could never master, but maybe you’re finally starting to learn it.  I wish I’d learned how to do that when I was a child, but I fear I was near as stubborn as you back then.”  

 

“You still are,” sniggered Lyanna.  _I’d apologize to you for what I did, but if you didn’t realize what I did then I’d really be doing you a kindness by not saying anything.  It…it would be selfish of me to cause Lyanna more pain by apologizing now.  And The Old Gods know I’m sorry for what I did besides._  

 

“Randyll, can I…can I trust you to keep Nymeria and me safe until Lyanna is able to get us to Bear Island and to look after Royce once we’re gone?  Your House…I need you and your younger siblings need you.  Can we count on you?”  The words sounded awkward and unnatural coming out of Arya’s mouth, but they were the kindest she had for her son, so they’d have to do.  And she’d never been able to speak to her second son that way before besides.  _It’s not too late for me to be a good mother to him._   

 

Randyll tilted his head and quietly studied his mother as if trying to make sense of her words.  For her part, Lyanna looked so surprised that for a moment, the Queen of The North wondered whether her friend’s shock was really some sort of ill-concealed disgust brought on by the realization of what Arya had done to her a few moments ago.  In truth, only Nymeria looked unsurprised by her mother’s words.    

 

“Are you okay, Randyll?”  

 

“I…I’m fine, mother.  I just…Robar put me in charge of these cells and I thought…there’s no reason you and Nymeria need to be housed in separate cells.  I can move you to the same cell so you’ll be together.”  

 

“You what,” blurted Arya, scarcely able believe what she was hearing.  Randyll glanced at his sister who – as was so oft the case – was plainly lost in her own thoughts and frowned before looking back at his mother with sad blue eyes, each as pale as the face of the moon.  _He was trying to do something kind for me_ , the Queen of The North realized.  

 

“I just thought…unless you don’t want –”  

 

“No, that’s very kind of you.  Thank you, Randyll.  It just caught me by surprise.”  

 

“It shouldn’t.  Randyll’s always been one of the kindest people I’ve ever known, even as a little boy…at least in the ways that really matter.  He oft has trouble expressing it, but I’m glad you’re finally starting to see him as he is,” added Lyanna.  Randyll quietly made his way to his sister’s cell and paused as if having second thoughts about even temporarily letting her out.  

 

“I know what’s wrong!”  

 

“Do you, Nym,” groaned Randyll.”  

 

“Yep.  You don’t have to worry about finding a way to repay me for helping you and mother make up with each other.  A simple ‘thank you’ will suffice.  Healing old wounds comes naturally to me.  There’s no shame in needing my help either, I have a talent for finding uncommon solutions to common problems…the sort of solutions that seldom occur to people like you.”  

 

“Seven Hells, not everything is about you!”  

 

“Randyll, you were trying to do something kind.  Don’t make a hash of it at the last minute by –”  

 

“Don’t worry, mother.  Randyll was just being cheeky; he isn’t actually wroth with me.”  

 

“YES, I AM!”  

 

“You are?  Well, you should really try to work on being more grateful when someone does you a favor, Randyll.”  

 

“I’m the one doing you and mother a bloody favor, not the other way around!”  Before Arya could respond, the doors opened once again and – much to the surprise of all present – the Lady of The Vale entered Winterfell’s underground dungeon.  

 

…  

 

“Sansa?”  _What are you doing here?_  

“I came to –”

 

“Apparently everyone in Winterfell knows about these cells…even Sothrons who know nothing of winter,” muttered Lyanna.  

 

“Have I offended you, Lady Mormont?”  

 

“Aside from the fact that you and Robar are the ones who should be imprisoned here instead of Arya and Nym?”  

 

“Whatever you think of me; it isn’t true.  What Robin, Ramsay, and Robar did was horrid, but I had nothing to do with any of that.  I didn’t know what they were going to do and I would never let anyone hurt Arya besides.  She’s my sister and –”  

 

“And Lord Arryn was your husband.  Isn’t it convenient that you’ve suddenly found the courage to talk about how you’ve always hated him now that he’s safely dead?”  

  
“There’s nothing ‘convenient’ about being trapped in an endless nightmare in which you’re forced to spend every day walking on egg shells with a smile painted over your face for fear of what your husband might do to you and your son if you displease him in any way.  Joffrey, Lord Florent, Lord Arryn…they’re all the same; I’ve survived them because I knew when not to fight.  Mayhaps someday you’ll learn how horrid a place the world can be and realize that there are times when you can’t live your life like the hero of a song…not if you want to survive.  The songs aren’t real; only the monsters, Lady Mormont.  I pray that you never have to learn that lesson,” Sansa calmly replied.    

 

“I know more about how horrid the world can be than you could possibly imagine and I never betrayed my kin.”  

 

“I’m sure you’ve both suffered a great deal during your lives.  Does it really matter whose suffering was worse?  This shouldn’t be a bloody contest.  Why don’t we just all avoid going down the path of complaining about all of the bad things that have happened to each other and try to actually figure out a workable plan while we’re all here,” asked Randyll half-pleadingly.  Ordinarily, the Queen of The North would have reminded her son that he complained more than anyone else in the room, but something far more troubling had already caught her attention.  _I wish Nymeria would stop looking at Sansa like that; Royce used to look at Lady Dustin that way before she died…_   Arya bit her lip.  

 

“Lord Bolton –”  

 

“Randyll is not a Lord, Sansa,” muttered Arya.  “And I don’t want you calling any of my children ‘Lord Bolton’ besides.”  _Randyll is nothing like Lord Bolton.  None of them are, not even Royce!_  

 

“Fine.  What I’m trying to say is that Randyll’s right.  I don’t know who you’ve lost, Lady Mormont, and you…you don’t know anything about what I’ve had to do to survive and protect my children.  I can tell that you care about my sister too though and I’m sure we can do more to help Arya and her children by working together than we can as enemies.”  

 

“You would say that.”  

 

“Robin Arryn did horrid things to everyone unfortunate enough to cross his path, but that’s not my fault.  I didn’t ask to wed him, I was forced to do it.  And you can’t hold someone responsible for the crimes of their kin just because they belong to the same House besides.”  _Lyanna does that every day…_   

 

“Is that so?”  _I have to put a stop to this before things get anymore out of hand._

 

“It’s okay, Lyanna.  Sansa would never hurt any of us.  She’s my sister and –”  

 

“She’s a cunt!”  

 

“Nymeria Bolton!  I don’t ever want to hear you using that word!  Apologize to your aunt right now!”  

 

“Lady Arryn, I’m sorry that you’re such a –”  

 

“NYMERIA!”  She’s never called anyone a “cunt” before.  _I…I don’t know what has gotten into Nymeria, but I can’t let Randyll try to move her to my cell while Sansa is still in the dungeon.  She’d never actually try to hurt Sansa…would she?  No, that…that’s ridiculous.  Royce was sent home from Barrowtown because he drowned a servant’s newborn son when he was six, but that was an accident.  And Nymeria would never hurt someone unless it was to protect herself or her family besides._  

 

“Fine.  Lady Arryn, mother said I should tell you that I’m sorry if you were offended when I called you a ‘cunt.’  I certainly wouldn’t want to hurt the feelings of a woman who wants my mother dead.” 

“Nymeria, I don’t know what Lady Mormont told you, but –”  

 

“She didn’t tell me anything, Lady Arryn.”  

 

“Then why would you say something so horrid?  Your mother is my sister, I love her near as much as you and your siblings do.”  

 

“I’m sure you love her near as much as Robar does.”  

 

“You can hate me if you want, but –”  

 

“Don’t worry, Lady Arryn; I hate you,” Nymeria calmly replied in a voice as cold as the steel bite of a dagger opening a man’s throat in the dead of night.  

 

“I don’t care.  I’m still going to do everything I can to help your mother, Randyll, Royce, and you.  I’ll earn your trust, just I earned your brother Roy–”  

 

“If you speak to Royce ever again, I swear by The Old Gods that –”  

 

“Would it help if I brought your brother here?  Royce may be terrified of Robar, but –”  

 

“Umm…Sansa, I don’t think it’s a very good idea for Royce to be here right now.”  

 

“It’s okay, Arya.  In truth, I’m surprised Royce isn’t here with us already.  He’s a very kind and considerate young man.  I’m sure he’d be happy to help explain to your daughter that I really am trying to help.”  

 

“Wait…Royce?  Are you sure it wasn’t Randyll?”  

 

“Yes, Arya; I can tell your children apart.  They don’t exactly look identical.  In any case, you should be very proud of Royce.”  By now, the youngest Bolton had grown so wroth with her aunt that her face was starting to twitch.  For her part, The Queen of The North couldn’t begin to imagine what Sansa possibly could have done to arouse such a visceral hatred in Nymeria.  As for Randyll, he looked as though he were struggling not to empty the contents of his stomach all over the floor.  _There’s something else going on here…_

 

“You’re my family and I’m not going to abandon any of you,” added the Queen of The Vale.  You don’t have to believe me right now, but someday you’ll see that I’m telling the truth.  I would never hurt you or your mother, I swear it by The Old Gods and The New.”  

 

“I think I may have misjudged you, Lady Sansa,” said the Lady of Bear Island in a voice as gentle as a shark’s fin calmly gliding through the surface of the open ocean.  “I apologize for what I said earlier.”  

 

“Umm…thank you, I –”  _Lyanna’s not actually sorry; she’s about to say something even worse, most like._   Arya bit her lip.  In truth, even Nymeria looked as though some small part of her was worried about whatever it was that the Lady of Bear Island was about to say.  

 

“Of course, there’s still one little detail about Domeric’s death that’s been bothering me, but I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding and you can clear it up for us.  Nymeria told me that right before Domeric was poisoned, you deliberately knocked over Arya’s goblet.  She didn’t know why you did it, but it bothered her all the same.  You know how these things are, Lady Arryn.  I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for why you did that, but it looks to me like you knew what Lord Arryn was going to do well in advance.  But he had other plans, didn’t he?  He was going to have Domeric and your sister poisoned…or at least, whichever of them drank your wine first.  You simply got cold feet at the last minute about kinslaying.  That’s what happened, isn’t it, Lady Arryn?”  _No, that…that…that can’t be true!  Sansa, would never…she…she must have heard something at Winterfell or…she was trying to save me._   

 

“I was trying to save her and I…I only…why are you doing this?  Hasn’t Arya suffered enough,” snapped the Queen of The Vale.  

 

“I could ask you the same thing,” Lyanna coldly replied.  Nymeria was mercifully silent, but both of the youngest Boltons hands had clenched so tightly into fists that her fingernails had begun digging into her skin until tiny drops of blood began dribbling out from between her fingers and she was staring at the Queen of The Vale in much the same way that Lord Bolton would oft stare at his enemies.  In truth, even Randyll was looking at his aunt as though she were a piece of rotting fruit.  

 

“But…but that’s impossible because you didn’t…you didn’t know what Lord Arryn was going to do.  You’d have warned me or…or…I mean…please, Sansa, just…just tell me *sniff* tell me Lyanna’s wrong and *sniff* and I’ll believe you.  I just *sniff* I need *sniff* I need you to look me in *sniff* in the eye and tell me that you *sniff* didn’t know what Lord *sniff* what Lord Arryn was going to do.  Please,” Arya begged as the room slowly grew more and more watery.   

 

“Arya, I don’t know what this woman has said to your daughter or why she hates me, but you know I would never try to hurt you.  Lady Mormont is a cruel liar who just…she just wants to turn us against each other.  I don’t know why, but I…I was only trying to protect you.  You know me; we grew up together in this very castle.  You’ll always been my sister and I would never –”  _Lyanna’s right; you knew…_  

“You’re right, my mother knew you once,” seethed Nymeria.  “Of course, that was a long time ago and people change.  What matters is who you are today and the woman you will be tomorrow, not the little girl you claim to have been when you and mother were children.”  

 

“Your sister lied to you again, Arya.”  _Please, Lyanna, just…stop talking.  I…I don’t want to hear anymore!  Sansa is the only person I have left from House Stark; don’t take that away from me.  Please…_   “If Lady Arryn was only trying to save you, then why didn’t she just reveal her husband’s plan the moment they arrived at Winterfell?  You could have protected her that way.”  

 

“Word could have gotten back to Lord Hunter and he’d have –”  

 

“Killed the new child King of The Vale on a dead king’s orders instead of ruling through him?  No.  Mayhaps you were afraid for your son, but even if you were, you didn’t warn Arya when you got to Winterfell because you were willing to sacrifice your sister rather than even risk making Lord Arryn wroth with you.”  _How could…why didn’t you…I could have prevented all of this if you’d just trusted me._   

 

“That’s not true!  It wasn’t like that, I –”  

 

“How were you planning to help us,” asked Randyll, plainly attempting to throw his aunt some sort of straw to grasp onto.  

 

“I…I thought we could convince Robar to let you, Arya, Royce, and Nymeria live in The Eyrie.  You’d be safe there now that Robin’s dead and –”  In truth, it didn’t matter what Sansa said anymore.  The Queen of The North watched in tearful dismay as her sister seemed more and more like a stranger with every word.  

 

“And The North and The Vale would one day be united when you or Lord Hunter forced me to wed your son,” growled the youngest Bolton.  

 

“I would never do something like that to you or your mother.  Whatever Lady Mormont –”  

 

“Stop trying to blame, aunt Lyanna for the evil things you’ve done.  Mayhaps you really are sorry for the things you’ve done, but this is different than when someone like me…well…there aren’t really other people like me.  This isn’t like when I make a mistake.  You don’t get to just say you’re sorry for almost letting some twisted demon monkey murder my mother just because you got cold feet at the last second and feel horrid about it now.  I’m going to make up for any mistakes I make right now when I’m Lord of Winterfell, but there’s nothing you can do to fix what you’ve done and now you have no family left in Winterfell.  There is nothing for you here and there never will be either.  You’re not from The North anymore, do you understand, Lady Arryn?  If you really want to help my mother than you’ll go back to The Eyrie where you can’t hurt her ever again.”  

 

“I would never –”  

 

“The way you swore that you didn’t know anything about what Lord Arryn was going to do to my parents?”  

 

“Mother, I think Lady Arr…aunt Sansa is telling the truth.  And she’s still your kin besides.  This is different than what Robar did, at worst she was only trying to protect her son.  What would you have done if you were in your sister’s place and it was the only way to protect Nymeria from Lord Snow?”  Arya scowled at her second eldest son as all the color drained from Nymeria’s face at the mention of the bastard’s name.  _How dare you compare this to what that monster almost did to Nymeria!_   “You can tell yourself that you wouldn’t even have entertained the thought, but I think we both know how that would have gone…”  

 

“Randyll, don’t make this harder for your mother than it already is,” ordered the Lady of Bear Island.  

 

“Arya, you’re my sister.  You know that I would’ve done whatever I had to in order to make sure you weren’t the one who drank the poisoned wine.  And Domeric was only a Bolton besides.”  _And what did you think my children were?_   “I was only trying to protect you from Robin.  Deep down, you have to know that’s true.  Arya?”  

 

“I wish I could believe that Sansa,” whispered the Queen of The North, rubbing the long scar that ran down the right side of her face.  “My children were at that table with us, Sansa.  If the poison had been put in the wrong person’s goblet, suppose it was slipped in Nymeria’s wine by mistake and you saw, would you have risked Lord Arryn’s wrath by knocking over one of her goblet?  What about Randyll or Royce’s goblet,” asked the Queen of The North, wiping away her tears.  The Queen of The Vale opened her mouth to respond…only to close it again and break eye-contact with her sister.  _That’s what I thought…_

 

“I think you should go now,” added Arya with a coldness that matched her daughter’s voice.  

 

“But I –”  In that moment, the Queen of The North desperately wanted to interrupt her sister and tell her she forgave her for whatever she did or didn’t do…to tell her sister that deep down, she knew Sansa would never hurt her or her children…to apologize for not defending her, but the words got stuck in her throat.  _I have to be strong; this isn’t just about what I want.  Other people have and will die because of what Sansa did.  How can I ever trust her again?_   _I’d forgive Sansa if I could; I want to, but…she’s betrayed other people in my family too.  It’s not in my power to forgive her…not really._ For all that Arya wanted to forgive her sister, she knew that on this day, there was simply no forgiveness left…not for Sansa, at least.  Instead, the Queen of The North fought back a fresh current of tears and forced herself to say the only two words she had for her sister – mayhaps the last she would ever say to the Queen of The Vale – in a voice as calm as it was cold.    

 

“Goodbye, Sansa.”  


	23. Robar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following takes place two weeks after the previous chapter

**Robar**

“I should put your head on a spike right next to Skinner’s,” roared the King of The North, as he grabbed his youngest brother by the throat and slammed the Royce against the wall of the lying bastard’s chambers. _I hated Skinner too and I’ll never understand what uncle Ramsay saw in the man, but I am the King of The North; you don’t get to use me to dispose of your enemies just because you’re too craven to handle them like a man._

“Choking…can’t…can’t breathe.Father wouldn’t…want you to…hurt…hurt me,” wheezed Royce. _Fine.The last thing I need is to be haunted by another ghost._ Robar released his youngest brother and the two-legged weasel hit the stone floor with a thud.“What was…what…what did…what did I do?” 

“I had Skinner executed two days ago like you suggested and it didn’t work.It would seem father didn’t hate any of the men you told me to execute near as much as you claimed or at least, his ghost didn’t.All that’s changed is that now even more men-at-arms whisper amongst themselves and look at me as though I’m a bloody madman.Randyll had already ceased speaking to me about anything other than official matters.Mayhaps he saw father’s ghost too and it told him not to speak with me; I fear I understand our brother less and less of late.It’s Lady Mormont’s fault, most like.She’s a bad influence on our brother, I think.The sooner that cunt leaves Winterfell with mother and Nymeria, the better.Tell me, Royce, how was I reduced to this?Relying upon a fool such as yourself for counsel?And before you answer, remind me why I haven’t put your head on a spike next to Skinner’s yet,” growled the King of The North. _That ought to be enough to keep him from using father’s ghost to trick me into doing his bloody dirty work for him.I wish uncle Ramsay was here.He’d never believe me, but at least father might have decided to haunt him instead if I hadn’t banished him from Winterfell.I never should’ve done that; I’ll send a raven to The Dreadfort telling uncle Ramsay that he can return to Winterfell first thing tomorrow and…no, that would be wrong.I can’t just pass this bloody curse onto someone else and it might not even work besides._

“Because I’m the only one who believes you’ve been hearing the voice of father’s ghost at night?” 

“Right.I suppose that’s probably it,” grunted Robar.“Even so, you said that if I killed Skinner and several other guards whom you claimed our father never cared for, then that bloody ghost might be appeased and leave me alone.Now the guards and men-at-arms who’ve harassed you most frequently over the years are dead…and last night I awoke to find father’s skull next to me in my bed and Luton’s headless body in front of my door.” 

“I told you it would make father’s ghost wroth with you if had someone guard the door to your chamb–” 

“I am the king; I can do whatever I want.”Royce shrugged. _At least Royce learned his place before I became king, else he’d have betrayed me just like everyone else, most like.Seven Hells, they found Luton’s head in father’s bloody tomb.Why does no one except Royce believe me?How could a person have killed Luton, decapitated him, replaced father’s head with his, and gotten his head into my bed without waking me or being seen by anyone else?Randyll said that even the Bitch of Bear Island found that disturbing.Who does she think she is anyway?How dare she refuse to acknowledge or respond to anything I say unless I make Randyll talk to her for me when I have something to say?I am the King of The North; where’s my respect?I said father’s ghost keeps whispering to me from within the walls of my chambers every night that he wants me to kill myself because he blames me for his death.Why does everyone except Royce act like I’ve gone soft in the head when I say that?I don’t care how sure Randyll is that the culprit was some drunken man-at-arms.It is father’s ghost; his voice told me so itself!I know I heard it and the bloody thing won’t let me sleep.Grandfather said killing your father wasn’t kinslaying if you were your father’s heir._

“I learned a lot about these sorts of things from Qyburn before he died.I even saw him bring a dead mouse back to life once with blood magic.If the dead can walk; I don’t see why they wouldn’t be able to talk too.They don’t like it when the living see them though.That’s why Luton died, most like.Qyburn said –” 

“Yes, yes, yes, I know.Clearly he taught you something since you knew father would leave me alone for a night if I had Ben Bones put to the sword.I don’t know why father’s ghost would care about that old fool though.They seldom spoke to each other any more than they had to as far as I can tell.No matter how many flagrant displays of insolence towards her he might have made for the benefit of others, so far as I could tell the man became Nymeria’s creature after –” 

“But remember, Robar, you can’t…I mean…it’s really, really important that you never tell Nym that I told you father wanted him killed,” added Royce, his brown eyes darting around the room as though he were afraid there was someone hiding in the walls.” 

“Do you presume to give your king commands?” 

“No, Your Grace.” _Better…you should be groveling in fear though, else how am I supposed to know that you still respect me?_ “It’s just…umm…well…because…because…how am I supposed to convince mother and her to confess their…umm…crimes if you tell her I had her friend killed,” stammered the second youngest Bolton before biting his lip. 

“If I weren’t certain that you fear me far too much to ever so much as think about lying to me, I’d smash your head open right now.You know that, don’t you?” 

“Yes, Your Grace.That’s why I know you had nothing to do with father’s death.You said you don’t and you’re king, so that means everything you say is true and it’s your subjects’ duty to fear you.I fear you more than anyone else does, so you shouldn’t hurt me.I…I’m the only one you can trust, Your Grace.” _How could a creature so craven and pathetic as this ever summon the courage to lie to me?_ “I have an idea,” exclaimed Royce.“Why don’t you…well…actually, father did always hate Lyanna Mormont.” 

“I don’t recall him saying anything about her one way or the other,” muttered Robar, rubbing his forehead. _I want to know how to make our father’s bloody ghost leave me alone.I don’t want to hear about anything else from you right now.Seven Hells, Royce, what was in that wine you keep bringing me?I don’t care if Qyburn arose from the dead to swear by the bloody thing; I’ve had a splitting headache all week and my vision has been blurry for the past two days.It’s better than it was this morning, but wine shouldn’t effect a man’s eyesight like this, I think._

“Really?I think father always hated her.In fact, he used to say that all the time.He didn’t like that our mother had a friend because that made her happy and –” 

“I suppose that does sound like our father.And your idea is?"  

  
“I think you should have Lyanna executed, Your Grace.It might appease father’s ghost and the disrespect she shows you is treason besides.” 

  
“No!Every time I kill someone because of counsel from someone I trust, it never turns out the way I was promised it would.I’m not executing anyone else until you’re able to make father’s ghost leave me alone.Do you understand,” growled the King of The North. 

“Fiiiiiiiiiine, but you should at least stop letting Lyanna visit her.” 

“Visit who?” 

“Nymeria.Oh and mother too, I guess.They…umm…I think you should try to keep them more isolated.How am I supposed to get mother to confess to murdering father if you let a traitor visit her?I bet Lyanna is telling mother to keep saying you did it.In fact, you should probably put Nymeria in a cell in the regular dungeons so that mother and her are separated.Mother will be more likely to break if they are kept separately.And Nymeria should be as isolated as possible too.I should be the only one who is allowed to talk to her while she’s imprisoned.In fact, she should be completely alone and cut off from everyone except for me.You know, so I can make sure she’s not plotting any treasonous schemes and…umm…stuff.” 

“Seven Hells, I don’t have time for this nonsense.Mayhaps if I can frighten mother into saying she was the one who killed…I mean…admitting that she murdered father, his ghost will haunt her instead.” 

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” mumbled Royce. 

“I don’t care!”  
  
“Well, at least be sure to split mother and Nym up, so they’ll be kept in different dungeons.Okay, Robar?Robar?That part is really important and –” 

“Not now, Royce.They’ll both stay where they are for now,” growled the King of The North as he stormed out of his youngest brother’s chambers. 

…

“Mother?Mother, you have to help me!Whatever else you may think of me right now, I’m asking you as your son to please help save me.I don’t think anyone else can,” added Robar. _I’ve seen mother bite her lip before when she’s nervous, so mayhaps she’ll be more likely to believe me if I bite my lip.Owww!That was too hard!Seven Hells, now I’m bleeding._

“I have to help you?Are you quite certain of that?”  
  
“I’m the king.That means you’re not allowed to tell me ‘no.’” 

“Seven Hells,” groaned a disgusted voice from the cell behind the King of The North. 

“Shut up, Nymeria!As your king I order you not to –” 

“Burn in Hell!” _Sister or not, your disrespect shall not go unpunished.Unlike mother, you actually committed the crime that you’ve been imprisoned for and so long as I am king the wicked shall not go unpunished.That’s why father’s ghost won’t leave me alone.Because I’m one of the wick…but…but…grandfather said it’s not kinslaying if a son kills his father to become king.Grandfather killed his father and he never said anything about any ghosts.Did he just learn to ignore them?Is that why he always looked so bored when he was alive?Because he had gotten too good at ignoring things he didn’t like?_

_The Old Gods have to know that no matter how much I hated mother for the horrid lies she told about uncle Ramsay, I never wanted her to be the one to take the blame for what happened to father.I thought we should just pretend we couldn’t find the culprit, but Lord Arryn and uncle Ramsay thought that mother needed to be framed in order for it to work.And uncle Ramsay deserved his revenge besides.I could believe he murdered grandfather and I could even believe he was about to murder Nymeria too, but mother said she had to attack him to prevent him from trying to rape Nym.That’s ridiculous!Anyone who has gone on a hunt with uncle Ramsay can tell you that he only rapes women whom he finds amusing.The ones who make him wroth with them are skinned alive.I bet mother even gave herself that scar just to make it easier to frame uncle Ramsay.Nymeria would’ve taken one look at it and gone along with whatever story our mother dreamed up if she thought it would lead to the execution of whomever mother said was responsible._

“Robar…I mean…Your Grace, don’t worry about your sister.You needed my help, remember?I’m over here.Focus on me, not Nymeria.You don’t…you don’t need to worry about her.Please, Robar, I…I’m asking you as a mother speaking to a son who has already hurt her more than he will ever know…don’t hurt your brothers or your sister.You owe me that –” 

“I’m the king.I don’t owe anyone anything.I would be well within my rights to kill both of you with my bare hands.Mayhaps I should –” 

“You needed my help with something, didn’t you?I…I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”Robar frowned. _She’s afraid of me…of what I might do if Nymeria keeps talking.What does it say about me if my own mother is so deathly afraid of what I might do to my own sister in response to some irksome remark that she’d act as though she were pleading for Nymeria’s life.I haven’t heard her speak to someone that way since…but…but grandfather said I didn’t have to become him to be like him.I wasn’t supposed to become him in the bad ways.That’s not fair!It’s supposed to feel really good when people are afraid of you; that’s the only way to know that they respect you.Uncle Ramsay said so himself!This is…wrong.I didn’t think it would feel like this…_

“Don’t worry, mother.I…I won’t have her executed.I won’t hurt Royce or Randyll either.I…I swear it by The Old Gods and The New.I wasn’t…I didn’t mean…Seven Hells, will you please stop looking at me like that?” 

“Like what?”  
  
“Like that!Like I’m the Night’s King come again.I’m not going to kill either of you at this point in time.You should both be thanking me.I’m really the victim of your ingratitude.I was merciful.See how mangnan…how maga–” 

“Magnanimous?” 

“Right, that!See how magnanimalous I am, mother?I had every right to put Nymeria’s head on a spike for what she said and I didn’t because I’m…what was that word again?It matters not at all.The point is that you said you would help me.” 

“It’s ‘magnanimous,’ idiot,” muttered the youngest Bolton. _I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, but only because I’m feeling merciful right now._

“I said I couldn’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.You should let me out of my cell, so that I can –” 

“That won’t be necessary, mother.I just need you to sign a written confession admitting that you were the one who murdered father so his ghost will haunt you instead of me.” 

“You can’t be serious,” blurted Arya. 

“Please, mother, four days ago, his ghost wrote a message in blood on my wall telling me to open my throat.I hear his voice telling me to do it most nights.I can’t sleep because he keeps describing what…every horrid thing I may or may not have done and –” 

“I hear father speaking too, Robar,” snickered Nymeria.“In the howling of the wind and in the pitter-patter of every rat’s feet.Look over there, Robar!I think I see him on the wall.Father’s ghost is going to get you!Oh wait, that’s just your shadow.” _I’ll teach you to jape about my suffering!_ The King of The North turned and slowly approached the youngest Bolton’s cell, ignoring his mother’s increasing frantic pleas for him not to do whatever he was thinking about doing. 

“Yes, laugh away, Nym.Mayhaps you’ll get another friend of yours executed.” 

“What?” _Not laughing any more, are we?_ _Don’t bother trying to hide your fear; I’ve known you far too long for that.Uncle Ramsay always said that fear was the highest form of respect and…wait a minute…should I really be using him as a model for how to treat my sister?Mother was lying when she told father that Ramsay tried to rape Nymeria after she saw him murder grandfather, most like, but he definitely tried to do something to Nym…something horrid enough that he deserved to be banished for it.Even after all these years, she was plainly terrified of him and that…it didn’t feel like respect.I don’t want anyone to ever look at me the way she looked at uncle Ramsay, especially not my own kin._

_I…I have nothing to feel guilty about though.Father deserved to die for what he did to mother.What I did to her wasn’t near as bad and she never gave me the respect I deserved besides.This is really her fault.And Nymeria had a bloodhound rip off someone’s manhood.Even if I wasn’t wroth with her, how could I not imprison her for that?Worse, she never treated me with respect even when we were children.If I’m such a half-wit, how come I’m King of The North and she’s in a dungeon cell?I could’ve even helped mother somehow if she’d been willing to entrust me with real responsibility.It matters not at all.What’s done is done.I can’t release either of them now anymore than I can bring father back to life so his bloody ghost will leave me alone…not until they’ve both signed written confessions acknowledging their crimes.They won’t be a threat then, most like.And they brought it on themselves by always treating me like a half-wit besides.Randyll was nicer about it than the others, but even he never really respected me.Royce…what would he do if he wasn’t afraid of me?If…if someone in my family had just…Seven Hells, death can’t be worse than this madness._

“It’s quite simple, dear sister.The former kennelmaster was nothing but a doddering old fool, but I’m told you were quite fond of him for some reason.I wasn’t planning to order that he be beaten to death, but Royce said you considered the man a dear friend.If that’s so, then I want you to understand that Ben Bones is dead entirely because he was unfortunate enough to know you.His blood is on your hands and yours alone.You set a bloodhound upon one of the few people who has ever treated me with the respect I deserve.More than can be said of anyone in our House, I think.Think of your friend’s death as an additional punishment for…for…umm…killing Lord…Lord Arryn.I mean…he…Ben Bones died…he…I’m sure he died very…umm…quickly.” _Stop looking at me like that…or say something!Scream, curse, tell me to burn in Hell, but stop…fine.I can play this game too.Don’t look away first.Don’t look away first.Don’t look away first.Don’t…shit.Well, I…umm…I don’t have to look people in the eye when I’m talking to them if I don’t want to, that doesn’t mean I’m scared.Why would I be scared of some dumb brat rotting in a dungeon cell.I’m a…I’m King of the…what did I ever do to deserve such humiliations?Great, now Nymeria looks like she wants to flay me to death.I suppose I can’t very well have made her any more wroth with me than she already was; at least I finally shut her up._

“What did you say,” seethed the youngest Bolton, her voice as sharp as a steel blade.

“I said that if you mock me like that ever again, I just might have to take Royce’s advice and chop off Lyanna Mormont’s head.” _Seven Hells, why did I just threaten to break the guest right?How will it look when Nymeria makes another jape and I don’t follow through?I’m not a monster; if…if I was then I wouldn’t respect the guest right and…and…I’m not my grandfather.I can be like him in the good ways without becoming him.Is that really so much to ask?None of this would have happened if my bloody family would just have given me the respect I deserve._

“Liar!Royce would never –” 

“Go ahead and ask him the next time he comes to speak with the two of you.He also said something about wanting to keep you and mother in separate dungeons.He used some fancy word for it; I think it was ‘isolated.’That’s right!Royce said that I should keep both of you isolated from everyone except for him, but…oh wait…Royce said I wasn’t supposed to mention that to you.It matters not at all.” _That’ll give Royce something to think about the next time he wants to try and use me to have one of his enemies killed.I punished two wayward brats at once.Nymeria won’t soon forget her place after this, I think.Grandfather and uncle Ramsay would be so proud of me if they were here right now!_

“Royce said that?He said…but that’s not…why would…I mean…I…I don’t believe you,” mumbled Nymeria. 

“Yes, you do.Go on, ask him the next time he comes to visit.Or are you afraid of what you’ll hear?You’re being awfully quiet, mother.Why don’t you go ahead and tell Nym that you think I’m lying?No?That’s what I thought,” sneered the King of The North as he watched his sister slump to the ground in defeat.For once, the youngest Bolton seemed to be at a loss for words and simply stared silently into space as if in some sort of strange trance brought about by soul-shattering grief. _This doesn’t feel right.Uncle Ramsay was wrong, I…I don’t think I like making my family feel this way.I’m hurting them and…I never should have killed father, but I can’t undo it now.Mayhaps I should just open my throat.I’d be free of this madness and it would all be someone else’s problem.Seven Hells, I never thought being king would be so…hard._  

“Nym?Nymeria, are you alright?I…I mean…I’m sure Robar’s lying and…umm…Royce wouldn’t…or…I don’t think…Nymeria?Nymeria,” shouted the Queen of The North from her cell. 

“As for you, mother, you had best listen very carefully.When Royce comes to speak with the two of you this evening, he will have a piece of paper for each of you to sign and I expect both of you to do so. I gave my word that I would not execute any of my siblings and I shall not.However, if either of you fails to sign a written confession of your crimes so father’s bloody ghost will stop haunting me then I’ll have Lady Mormont put to the sword instead.She could’ve left, but insisted on waiting to leave Winterfell until she could safely bring you and Nymeria back to Bear Island with her so that she could ensure nothing happened to either of you in her absence.I’ll leave it to you to decide how to repay her loyalty,” added the King of The North. _Father’s ghost was right.I don’t deserve to live…_


	24. Arya

It was nighttime when Arya heard distant footsteps approaching Winterfell’s hidden dungeon…or at least, it felt like it was late at night.In truth, it had become harder and harder to determine the approximate time of day at any given moment and Nymeria had completely given up on attempting to do so.Alas, that was not an option for the Queen of The North who knew all too well the importance of keeping track of the passage of time while in captivity. _The first thing Rickon lost was his sense of time.He said the days and nights started to blur together after the time I couldn’t visit him for more than a fortnight because I had to drag Domeric to Bear Island so we’d be there when Lyanna wed Ser Beren Tallhart.Robar and Nymeria came with us, but at least Randyll made sure someone fed Rickon while I was away.When I got back from Bear Island, Rickon had knocked himself out by banging his head against the walls of his cell out of boredom and when he woke up, he said that he didn’t know what time of day it was anymore.He was never the same after that…_  

For her part, the Queen of The North had handled her time in captivity with more patience than anyone in her old family would have believed possible.In truth, she’d already survived a very different sort of captivity in the years between the Red Wedding and Lord Bolton’s death and there were ways to fill the time besides, even after Nymeria started growing quieter and less responsive.Arya had tried to explain to her daughter that the most important thing while they were being kept prisoner was to find small ways to keep their minds occupied in order to fight off the boredom – like making a mental list of everything you hated about yourself until you fell asleep – for all the good it did.It was as though the news of Royce’s betrayal had simply been too much for the youngest Bolton to take after everything that had happened during the past few weeks. 

_Nymeria wouldn’t have lasted three days in here if she’d been alone in here like Rickon.Even when she was just a little girl,Nym would always start getting restless whenever there was no one around for her to talk to, maybe…maybe that’s why Robar put her in cell so close to mine.Even after all the horrid things he’s done, Robar probably doesn’t really want to hurt either of us and…no, keeping Nymeria and me close enough that we could talk to each other was Randyll’s idea, most like.I can’t lie to myself about any of my children anymore…no matter how much it hurts._

_Randyll made a horrid mistake, but he’s not like that anymore and he was never a monster like Domeric besides.At least I was right about Nymeria.Randyll and her are good people, but the other two…This is my fault; if I’d been willing to admit to myself what Robar and Royce really were then I would’ve had time to teach them how to become better people while they were still children.I was too craven to try and now it’s too late to save Robar.He’ll be accursed for the rest of time…like me.It’s not too late to save Royce though; if I can convince him to take The Black then he could still lead an honorable life.Jon would look after him and…no, Royce wouldn’t go to The Wall willingly and Robar would never force him to do it._

Arya glanced at her daughter and bit her lip when she saw that Nymeria was still nervously pacing about in her cell, pausing only to occasionally kick at the ground. _She’s been doing that ever since Robar told her that Royce had betrayed us too.Did Rickon wander around his cell like that when the boredom became unbearable?Is she…I mean…Nymeria is stronger than Rickon was; I raised her to be stronger than anyone…even her brothers…even me.Sitting in a dungeon cell isn’t going to drive her mad and neither is what Robar said.She’s just…having trouble sitting still is all.If Nymeria keeps getting worse, then I’ll “confess” to whatever horrid lies Robar wants so long as he lets Lyanna take Nym to Bear Island.I don’t care what Robar and Royce do to me, but she has to get out of Winterfell without ending up broken.The Old Gods can take everything else away after what happened at The Twins, but they can’t have her!Do you hear me, Old Gods?I won’t let you –_

“Mother, Nymeria,” shouted Royce as the door to Winterfell’s hidden dungeon swung open.“You won’t believe what happened last night!Robar just –” 

“Get out,” hissed Nymeria. _At least she’s speaking again…_

“But I came to let mother and you out of –”  

“Robar told us what you did!” 

“What I…wait a minute…do you mean…if this is about having you and mother separated or…or what happened to Ben Bones, I only told Robar what he wanted to hear so that he’d trust me.I’m not afraid of…well…actually Robar could be really scary sometimes, but he also thinks the best way to test someone’s loyalty is to see whether you frighten them enough to do things that make them do something horrid.I had to make him think I was too craven to ever cross him so that he would listen to me in case I needed to convince him not to execute one of you.When he asked me what I thought should be done with aunt Lya–” 

“You don’t get to call her that,” growled the youngest Bolton. _I’m sure Robar was putting Royce’s actions in the worst possible light in order to hurt Nym and I could even believe that some of the things he said about Royce were lies…but not all of them.Robar’s not smart enough to lie that convincingly about that many things at once.Maybe Royce regrets betraying his kin and wants to make amends by working with Lyanna to have us smuggled out of Winterfell, but there’s plainly a reason he won’t look his sister in the eye when he’s talking to her.I can’t pretend that Royce didn’t do something horrid after Domeric died.And he already killed that poor little boy at Barrowtown besides.I can’t keep telling myself that it was just a cat.If Lyanna was right then he also likes hurting animals…Where did I go wrong with Royce?At least he seems to have made Nym wroth enough that she’s starting to sound like her old self again_. 

“Fine.The point is that I could tell that Robar didn’t care enough to actually bother separating moving you or mother to the other dungeon and he wouldn’t have dared execute Lyanna no matter what I said.He’d have been too worried about violating the Guest Right.I don’t know what Robar told you, but he was just testing me and probably wanted to make you and mother feel even more alone.” _If Royce isn’t doing this because he feels guilty about what he did, then why did he come here to let us out?If Robar was going to execute one of us, Royce wouldn’t have been so excited…maybe Robar decided that Lyanna could take Nymeria to Bear Island even if she refused to sign a false confession.I don’t care what Robar says, Nymeria did not violate the Guest Right; even Lyanna knows that and she was so wroth with Nym for not having done a better job training Visenya.Nymeria didn’t kill Lord Arryn on purp…I mean…she did, but there was nothing wrong with it.Lord Arryn left her no choice._

“Robar murdered his own father and framed our mother for it.He is a traitor who sold out his kin to Lord Snow and did the Arryns’ bidding.Do you really expect me to believe that you thought someone like that would draw the line at killing someone who had eaten his bread and salt?He hated aunt Lyanna and –” 

“He probably wanted to kill her, but Robar was convinced that father’s ghost was haunting him,” replied Royce as a strange look made its way onto the youngest Bolton’s face.After the rats started attacking him in his chambers, Robar began babbling about how he’d punish anyone who violated the guest right in Winterfell if father’s ghost would make the rats disappear.He executed Skinner and some of the other people who helped poison father, but the rats didn’t go away.” _Did the guilt make Robar go soft in the…even softer in the head?_  

“I never would have told Robar to have Lyanna’s head put on a spike if I thought he might actually go through with it.” 

“What about Ben Bones,” asked Nymeria half-pleadingly as her anger rapidly gave way to weary relief. _I know better than most how easy it can be to talk yourself into believing pleasant lies and half-truths about those you care about, but nothing good can come of it.None of this would hav happened if I hadn’t taken so long to accept that._ Arya bit her lip. _I hope Lyanna is taking us to Bear Island, that way I could let Nymeria believe whatever she wants about Royce since she’d hardly ever see him again, most like.We’d still be safe and I wouldn’t have to hurt her even more by telling her about what Royce did when he was at Barrowtown.But if Royce and Nymeria are both going to remain at Winterfell, she needs to understand what he is…no matter how painful that is for her._  

“Robar had already ordered Ben Bones’ death as punishment for helping train your hounds after what happened to Lord Arryn.He just asked me if I thought he’d made the right decision.What was I supposed to say?And Randyll was the one responsible for making sure Ben Bones was beaten to death besides.You believe me, mother…don’t you?” _Randyll wouldn’t do that!If you’re going to lie, you should at least try to make it believable.Even Nymeria just rolled her eyes and she’s so desperate to find an excuse to justify forgiving you that she’s already plainly trying to talk herself into believing almost everything else you’ve said._

“Royce, you’re my son and I’ll always love you.Nothing you do can ever change that and if you really did come here to help rescue your sister and me, then I’m sure I’ll find a way to forgive you for what you’ve done someday.I know you’ve always been frightened of Robar and I know how hard it must be for you to cross him even now, but…” _Even if you were trying to atone for your crimes by rescuing us, you’d still belong at The Wall…for your own sake.If you knew what Robar was going to do to your father or had anything to do with it, then The Wall is the only place where you can redeem yourself in the eyes of the Old Gods.A man’s sins are forgiven when he takes The Black and Jon can make sure you get a fresh start._

“But what?I need you to help me explain to Nymeria that I didn’t do anything wrong.Neither of you should be wroth with me right now.I came here to free both of you and tell you –” 

“A mother always knows when one of her children is lying.I wish I didn’t.I wish I could believe you’re telling the truth, but I…I think we all know that Robar wasn’t lying about what you did.”Nymeria glanced at her brother nervously, her pale, blue eyes all but begging him to disprove their older brother’s allegations. _I’m sure I’ll eventually find a way to forgive you for what you did after your father’s death, even though I’ll never be able to trust you again, but if you force me to break your poor sister’s heart all over again by making me tell her about what you did at Barrowtown so that she has no choice but to be honest with herself about what you’re capable of…that I will never forgive!_

“But this wasn’t how…I mean *sniff* but *sniff* but you’re my mother, you shouldn’t hate –” _That’s not going to work anymore.The best thing that I can do for you is to send a raven encouraging you to take The Black once Nymeria and I get to Bear Island.I have two other children to worry about and I…I can’t protect Nymeria if you’re here.She needs me to keep her safe until she accepts the fact that not everything you did can be blamed on Robar…even if his crimes are worse than yours._

“We both know that wasn’t what I said, Royce.You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t been ordered to release your sister and me.”The second youngest Bolton glanced at his sister as though he expected her to intercede on his behalf, but Nymeria said nothing. _Why is he so much more worried about her being wroth with him?_  

“If I’m a turncloak then how come Robar killed himself and you’re both still alive.” _What?Robar’s dead?I didn’t want…but…but…but that doesn’t make any sense.The Old Gods would only be even more wroth with him if he took his own life.Even Robar has to have known that._

“Robar is dead?You’re sure he killed himself.He did it by himself,” asked Nymeria, eyes narrowing.  

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” groaned Royce.“Randyll told me to release both of you immediately.He’s supposed to be King of The North now since he’s the oldest, but I think that’s stupid because –” _Because you want to be king…_  

“Mother?Mother, why do you look so upset?I could understand if you were tearing up because you were happy, but Robar got what he deserved.He probably felt so guilty about what he’d done to you that he finally snapped and took his own life.I bet Robar knew he’d be accursed in the eyes of the Old Gods anyway.” _Seven Hells, Nymeria, whatever Robar did, he was still your brother.At least have decency not to sound so happy about it; I’d expect that sort of thing from Randyll, but you’re better than that._ “Mother, I’m also going to need some…space before I can forgive Royce for not standing up for Ben Bones and Aunt Lyanna, but he really was trying to help.He just made a hash of it.” 

“See, Nym isn’t even wroth with –” 

“That’s not what I said,” snapped the youngest Bolton, shooting her brother such a fearsome death glare that he took a step back in surprise.“I’m still wroth with you and I don’t even want to hear your bloody voice right now, but I forgive you for what you did and we’re going to be okay.You’re still my brother.Do you understand?”  

“But I –”

“Why don’t you just unlock our cells?I’ve heard enough excuses for one day andI…I must needs speak with your brother,” the Queen of The North sighed in a flat, emotionless voice that she normally reserved for her worst enemies as she wiped away the tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes.Royce winced and did as he was bid.  


End file.
